The Wisdom Seeker
by A. E. Giggle
Summary: SEQUEL TO THE SECRET KEEPER: Following Bella's magical revelation and their contribution at the Battle of Hogwarts, the Cullens set out on an educational journey a million miles away from the Highschool purgatory they've grown accustomed to. OOC/AU.
1. Recovery

**Disclaimer: I own neither Twilight or Harry Potter.**

**A/N:** **There is no point reading this story unless you've already read **_**The Secret Keeper**_**. This is its sequel, so you will have no idea how Bella and the Cullens got to this point without having read my other story first. For some reason it won't let me post the full link, so just copy and paste this to the rest of the fanfiction address: .net/s/5244652/1/The_Secret_Keeper**

**For those of you who have already read the prequel … here's the fun after the seriousness.**

I opened my eyes to a room bathed in green. It was the light filtering in from outside: Mother Nature was adamant that Washington State should be entirely over-run with emerald tones. Clearly, my bedroom with its wooden floors, blue wallpaper and yellow lace curtains, was not in harmony with her carefully planned out colour scheme.

I groaned and swiped the wand from my bedside table, pointing it at the curtains and flicking in frustration. They closed instantly, and my hand dropped back down to hang limply by the side of my bed.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to get used to that," a soft velvety voice said from the corner.

My eyes squeezed tighter shut and I willed myself to fall back to sleep. Sleeping was easier. There were nightmares, yes; but often, when they became too painful, my mind turned to lighter topics and random nonsense. Last night, for example, my brain had decided that it had had enough of reliving Fred Weasley's death and, consequently, switched to providing me with images of a wrestling match, in which Emmett was battling a Flobberworm … and was losing miserably.

The waking hours were my problem. My conscious mind was evidently not as kind as my subconscious one, and it had been virtually impossible to escape wonderings of Victoria and the grief for lost friends.

_She_ had been another recent horror—Victoria. I'd barely had a full month after the last battle before I was engaged in another one. The fear of endangering my loved ones again, so soon after I had been robbed of others, really hit home. My mourning process had been interrupted by sheer hysteria: it's a wonder that I hadn't suffered a nervous break-down.

Victoria had finally been eliminated, though, and I had eventually been able to release all my pent up anger and grief. I'd cried and screamed at the top of my lungs; I'd clawed at Edward's clothes, desperately wishing for something expendable to destroy, not with magic, but with my own two hands. Edward hadn't minded; he'd known I'd needed some kind of physical outlet. As a result, one of his cotton shirts had been ripped to shreds.

The past week had been better, though. My mind still kept returning to the Battle of Hogwarts, but it was becoming a distant nightmare now—something that would always bring about a sense of loss with the memory of it, but would not cause an instant emotional collapse.

I was even performing magic again. I'd had to limit myself due to Victoria's constant proximity. She was the last person I wanted to reveal the wizarding secret to; plus, magic only reminded me of recent events when I used it, making spells difficult to execute accurately.

Shortly after our return to Forks, Jasper had finally stopped radiating his waves of calm. He and the family had insisted that I deal with my grief head on, fearing that it would be mentally damaging to attempt to delay it permanently. Unfortunately, the sudden emotional upheaval caused me to have a bit of an accident. As my mind gave over to the agony of loss, my own inner turmoil had had a direct effect on the mansion. In one terrible second of absolute despair, the entire back wall of the house—the glass which stretched to the upper floors—exploded outwards in a rain of deadly shards. I had tried to repair the glass wall three times, finally succeeding on the last try.

Edward, being his ever cautious self, worried that my current state would be potentially dangerous if combined with wand-work. I had built enough confidence during my seven years since entering the magical world that I didn't share his concerns; still, I refrained from practicing magic during my 'recovery' in order to placate him and ensure his peace of mind. He already worried about me; there was no need to increase his anxiety unnecessarily.

"How are you feeling?" Edward asked, his brow furrowing as he rose from the rocking chair and crossed the room to my bed. I clamped my eyes shut again after opening them briefly. He sat on the edge next to me. I felt his icy breath tickling my nose as he leaned over me, possibly to study my eyes—once I finally decided to open them—to get a better reading of my emotional state.

"I'm fine," I said, breathing in his heavenly scent, eventually searching for his honey-toned irises. As expected, they were swimming with worry.

"Why don't we go over to your place today? It's been too long since I saw the others."

"It's only been a week, Bella, and that's down to their five day hunting trip."

Jasper and Emmett had insisted that the family needed some 'serious de-stressing time' after the last couple of demanding and life-threatening months.

"You don't have to if you're not feeling up to it."

"No I … I do feel up to it. The sooner I get back into some kind of normality, the easier it will be, I think."

"Alright," Edward answered reluctantly, "but you do realise that once you give them the impression that you're … on the mend, they're going to start demanding answers about your world?"

I'd expected as much. Obviously, I had had to respond to various queries following Voldemort's defeat—usually relating to the government of the wizarding world, the existence of magical creatures, and the history of dark wizards—but the Cullen's had asked no more than that. They had been understanding enough to allow me space, and had reigned in their undeniable curiosity; however, I wasn't so stupid that I thought I would be spared once I began showing signs of emotional improvement. I was absolutely positive, as was Edward, that walking through the Cullen's front door today with my wand in hand would signal my permission to commence the onslaught of questions and demands. They'd probably have me pulling bunnies out of hats within the first five minutes of my arrival.

"It's alright," I replied, "I'm going to have to get it over with at some point. It may as well be now."

"OK, I'll meet you downstairs. Charlie left for Billy's two hours ago, so if he gets back before us, we can just tell him that I picked you up. I really don't feel like using your decrepit truck today, Bella."

I spluttered, and was about to retaliate with me own facetious comment, but my lightening-quick boyfriend escaped before I could even open my mouth.

"Just you wait, Edward Cullen. When I'm done with you, you'll be begging for my decrepit truck," I murmured.

A chuckle carried from downstairs; he thought I was joking. He was in for a shock.

I finally decided on plain jeans and an emerald button down shirt. The material flowed smoothly over the contours of my chest, torso, and arms, but flared at the elbows and collected in pretty lace ruffles at the cuffs. This was about as extravagant as I got.

I dressed quickly, my mind flicking briefly to Charlie as I did so. He had been practically blowing steam out of his ears upon our return from Hogwarts. In my haste to get to the school, I hadn't even thought to inform him that I wouldn't be coming home. I'd had too much to deal with already, so I'd Confunded him into thinking that Alice's car had broken down on a deserted road during a trip back from Seattle, and due to the fact that her cell had died, we had been unable to get in touch. I had also realised that the whole of Fork's would know by the time I returned of my sudden disappearance, so any chance of just removing the memory completely was out of the question. In the end, I decided to make him think that he'd already given me a good shouting at. It worked, thankfully.

Charlie didn't know of my magical life. I hadn't gotten around to telling him until I was fifteen. I had barely seen him during my youth anyway, so maintaining the secret hadn't been a problem. When I had finally mustered the courage to reveal my secret, he hadn't exactly taken it well. I knew that nothing I told him would alter the way he felt about me—I was his daughter; he loved me completely—but the discovery that mythical creatures and such weren't as mythical as he'd initially thought had definitely turned him a little green. Charlie was a very practical man; he had been happier when he hadn't known. As a result, I'd Confunded him into believing that my little revelation had actually been a dream. I wouldn't usually condone such behaviour, but it had been for his peace of mind, not mine.

After I had finished changing, I walked to the window, pulled back the curtains, and pushed the frame up, before sticking my head out to inhale the morning air. Then I held out my arm and waited. In no less than thirty seconds, a handsome and graceful barn owl came gliding through the air towards me. It landed on my upraised arm.

"I've missed you," I whispered. He nibbled my ear affectionately. "Do you want to meet them today?"

My owl already knew all about the Cullens. I had kept him updated from the off, in order to ensure that he didn't make the mistake of flying in whilst Edward was over. We had been extremely careful in recent years. Talto had taken to living in the forest just beyond the house. He preferred it to a cage, and even if Vampires hadn't been making frequent house calls, I'm fairly sure Charlie would have noticed if I'd decided to keep him in the house.

I'd spent time with him during Edward's hunting trips, or the periods in which Edward had to leave, for whatever reason. I handled him outside, usually in the woods, always showering and changing clothes immediately afterwards.

Talto repeated his nibbling gesture to indicate his approval. I must admit I had assumed that he would take far more persuasion: I was well aware that animals avoided the Vampires—their sense of self-preservation prevented them from doing otherwise. When I had initially met Edward, my owl had been frantic, and had nipped me constantly in his attempts to bring me to my senses. After the Cullens had rescued me from James, however, he'd come around a little, though he still didn't trust them completely, regardless of how many times I informed him of their non-human diet.

Then, after their contribution at Hogwarts and their efforts against Victoria, Talto seemed completely appeased. He'd been present at the slaughtering of the newborns, and had hovered above the trees surrounding the field, witnessing for himself the lengths the family would go to to protect me. He was a clever enough creature that he understood the Cullens cared for me. He was also aware of their preference for larger animals, and I'd only had to reassure him once that an owl was far from their idea of an appetiser. He may even have tailed them on their trips once or twice, just to be sure.

"Great!" I whispered enthusiastically. "Meet us there."

I threw him into the air and watched as he flew off towards the trees.

Then, I ran to the corner of the room and lifted the loose floorboard, beneath which lay my hidden school books and various magical equipment, including my potions kit, and my Cleansweep. I transferred my entire store to my now empty trunk—except, of course, for my broom, which I carried myself—before pointing my wand and calling out, _"Locomotor trunk."_ The trunk levitated into the air, moved out onto the landing, and floated off down the stairs, whilst I followed closely behind it.

Edward was waiting in the living room. His eyes popped slightly upon seeing my floating trunk, but he composed himself quickly, rearranging his expression as if this were a normal occurrence.

"What's that for?" Edward asked suspiciously. "What's in there? Is that a broom?"

Suddenly he was directly in front of me, inspecting my Cleansweep with rapt attention. I guessed his siblings weren't the only ones to have been suppressing their curiosity.

"Yes, it is. And in answer to your other question, I figured that so long as I'm subjected to the inquisition, I may as well give them all the resources I can provide. I'm sure that there'll be something in here to occupy each member of your family."

I patted the trunk and flicked my eyes back up to Edward, whose face was scrunched in confusion.

"Bella, who were you talking to up there? You smell … off."

"Oh. That was Talto," I informed him. "He's my owl. He wants to meet you."

Edward's face went slack for a second, before his brow furrowed and incredulousness filled his eyes.

"An owl wants to meet me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did he actually tell you that?"

"I asked him if he was ready to meet you and your Vampire family and he gave me the response he always does when he's approving. My owl isn't an idiot, Edward," I said testily.

"I wasn't implying that he's an idiot, Bella," he answered, both concern and amusement audible in his tone. "I was merely suggesting that he _is_ an owl. Are you telling me your pet understands English?"

"Yes," I said, simply, enjoying the way that Edward's eyebrows shot up. "Now, would you be able to do me a favour?"

"Sure. What?"

"Take a hold of my trunk, please?"

Edward smiled and granted my request, supporting the heavy wooden chest under one arm. I kept one hand wrapped firmly around my broom, before I took his in my other.

"Now, since my O.A.P. vehicle is too slow for you, I figured we should take the direct route."

"What's the direct rou—"

Before Edward could finish his question, I had spun on the spot and had pulled him into the body-stretching pressure. It lasted for only a couple of seconds, and then it was over, and Edward and I were stood in the small meadow at the front of the Cullen mansion.

I glanced over at Edward and had the pleasure of seeing that his eyes had grown as large as golf balls. I burst into a fit of giggles, thoroughly impressed with my new found ability to stun the insanely perfect Vampire.

"That was … exceedingly strange," he said finally.

I laughed again and nodded, never letting go of his hand as we approached the house.

Alice was bouncing on the top step of the porch, wearing a massive grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Before I had even managed to take a full five steps, she shot through the air towards me, nothing but a blur of white and inky black, coming to rest so that only an inch separated us as her arms snaked around my waist.

"I'm so happy! I can't wait!" she squealed excitedly.

"For what?" I asked, scared now.

"Everything!"

"What's going on Alice?" Emmett questioned, speeding to our side in the blink of an eye. It unnerved me how someone as bulky as Emmett could be so graceful. If I hadn't been in on the secret, I would have surely developed a complex ages ago.

"Bella's going to tell us all about magic! She's going to show us loads of stuff today!"

"Yes!" Emmett exclaimed, punching the air with his fists. "Finally! I've been dying for something interesting. Everything seems so dull nowadays, following your little revelation."

"If you really are going to do this, Bella, we should move to the area behind the house," said Edward.

"Absolutely!" Alice squealed, streaking forwards again, her hands circling around my left forearm. Her expression was rather terrifying: she looked at me with wide sparkling eyes, below which was a huge manic smile, revealing two full rows of brilliant, venomous teeth.

"Err … Alice, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Waiting for you to apparate, of course!"

"Awesome!" Emmett shouted, bounding around the back of me and clutching my other arm.

I glanced at Edward, my amusement becoming obvious once again as I failed to suppress a smirk.

"Are you in too, or would you prefer a slower means of travel?"

It felt slightly bizarre referring to Edward as slow. His chin lifted a fraction at my words.

"I'm up for whatever you can throw at me," he proclaimed, rising to the challenge. Emmett snickered from behind.

I twirled, instantly feeling the effects of the apparation as everything compressed in on itself. We appeared a few metres from the river. Emmett and Alice were both more excited after experiencing the process than Edward; he, evidently, would require more time to adjust to my version of 'express travel'.

"That was freaky-awesome, Bella," Emmett chuckled. The rest of the family joined us in the ensuing moments.

"What's going on?" Rosalie questioned, going to stand alongside her brawny husband.

"Our little witch is going to give us a few lessons," explained Alice. "Today is going to be fun for us all."

"Excellent," Carlisle responded enthusiastically.

The Cullen family stared at me expectantly, but I suddenly seemed to have difficulty locating my tongue.

"What about this owl you're supposed to be introducing us to?" Edward said, coming to my rescue. He scanned the surrounding trees, his inspection coming to a halt as he gazed at those beyond the river.

"Is that …"

I followed his line of sight, hoping that it would lead me to my beautiful barn owl. I saw nothing though—my eyesight wasn't strong enough to catch what he was seeing. Whatever it was, it must have been hidden from me by the shadows of the suspended branches.

"Oh!" Esme exclaimed joyfully. "Is that yours, Bella?"

She _must _have been referring to Talto: I certainly wouldn't have kept anything else belonging to me in a tree behind her house. I walked a few yards away from the Vampires, before finally calling my pet.

"Talto!"

Instantly, something soared from the shadows and headed in my direction. It gained altitude as it crossed the river, before swooping downwards and fluttering onto my upraised arm. He nibbled my ear playfully, though he was a little rougher than usual, presumably due to nerves.

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Talto."

"He's wonderful, Bella," Carlisle said. "Did you choose the name?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "I played around with Tyto Alba—you know, his spiecies—after I bought him on my first trip to Diagon Alley. He was just a baby then, but he's been with me ever since."

"He's beautiful," Esme cooed. "So lovely."

"He is, isn't he," I smiled, loving stroking the side of his head with the back of my fingers. Then I addressed the owl—I didn't want to take him by surprise or frighten him in any way. His comfort was, understandably, my first priority.

"Do you mind if we get a little closer? They won't hurt us."

The Cullens gazed on in awe at the exchange I shared with the winged creature, even more amazed by his apparent placidity.

"He understands you?" Carlisle asked in astonishment.

"Yes. He understands everything. That's why we use them for mail—we can tell them who or where we want a particular item delivering to, and they take it."

"Incredible," he murmured.

I moved closer to the Vampires, first approaching the females. Talto was making a great effort to seem brave, holding his position on my arm and refusing to take flight, despite the closeness of the seven surrounding predators.

"Esme," I said, smiling at her encouragingly, "do you want to stroke him?"

She glanced briefly around at her family members.

"Will he let me? I don't want to frighten him."

Talto, though hard working and affectionate, also had a tendency to be extremely proud; naturally, therefore, Esme's spoken worries provoked a reaction. He fluttered from my hand and closed the distance between Esme and himself, landing quickly on her shoulder as if she were no more dangerous than the branch of a young tree.

She gasped loudly, before allowing a massive smile to spread across her face.

"Oh, Bella, I think he likes me!" Esme reached up and gently caressed the snowy feathers of Talto's breast. The motion seemed to sooth the owl, and he swiftly relaxed into a less stiff pose.

"Can I stroke him too, Bella?" Alice enthused.

"Ask _him_," I laughed.

My best friend didn't find this instruction odd in the slightest: she turned to face Esme and the owl, and asked—in the friendliest and most polite tone possible—if Talto would kindly permit her to stroke him. He hooted softly in response, and Alice danced forwards, wearing a similar grin to that of her mother. Rosalie followed suit, cooing as the others did, whilst she stroked a now exceedingly happy Talto.

"You're a beauty, aren't you?" she praised, earning another hoot of contentment.

I called him and he flew back to me, landing this time on my shoulder, as he had on Esme's.

"You're going to have to stop being such a lady's bird. The others want to meet you, too," I teased.

His talons gripped my shoulder tighter as I made my way over to the men. I wasn't sure whether that was due to my witty comment or the fact that the male Vampires were a little more imposing than their counterparts.

"Talto, this is Emmett, Jasper, Carlisle, and Edward." I pointed out each individual as I spoke their names, much to the amusement of Jasper, who was now regarding me as if I was mad.

Carlisle was the first to make contact with the bird. He stroked the large feathers of his wings, smiling like a Cheshire cat as he did so. Emmett was next, looking excited at the prospect of befriending an animal, as opposed to eating it. Jasper looked slightly reluctant, but one look from Alice was enough to push him forwards. He stroked Talto gently on his breast, his uncertainty immediately disappearing the moment the owl hooted his appreciation.

Edward, I noticed, hung back from the others, his body rigid whilst his eyes remained focused on Talto.

"Edward," I said, worriedly, "is something the matter?"

His eyes never left the bird as he addressed me, but his mouth twitched at the corners.

"There's nothing wrong, really. It's just … it feels like I'm trying to earn the approval of one of your family members. It's a bit surreal."

He laughed then, and the sound was infectious. The others chuckled in turn, as did I, all of us finding humour in Edward's words. The fact that there was a certain truth to his confession—it wasn't simply an irrational musing—made it all the more funny.

"I don't think it will be difficult for you to gain his favour. He already knows about everything you've done for me. Right, Talto?"

Talto nibbled my ear before bravely launching himself from my shoulders towards Edward, who looked both surprised and relieved as the owl descended upon his upraised arm. A slow smile crept onto his perfect snowy face. It was almost childlike, and he caressed Talto both affectionately and with enthusiasm.

"Hello, Talto," he said, his eyes flicking to me for a second. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've seen you enough times."

"You've seen him before?" I broke in loudly, causing my owl to start.

"I see him in the woods outside your house quite frequently. I hear him at night, too, sometimes. I never suspected that he was yours, though; at least, not until you first told us you owned an owl. I can't believe you managed to keep him a secret. I would have thought that I would have caught his scent."

"He never comes into the house; he's more of an outdoorsy kind of creature. Usually, I spend time with him when you're away."

"Or change clothes straight afterwards?"

"You figured it out, huh?"

"Kinda," he replied, his perfect crooked smile making its appearance.

I felt my heartbeat accelerate and my jaw drop.

"Have you ever considered a life of crime, Bella?" Emmett chuckled.

"No thanks, Emmett. I'll leave the shifty business to you."

"Oooh, ouchy."

"So owls are used for mail, then?" Edward interjected. "Is the mail man not stylish enough for wizards and witches?"

"Ha ha," I answered, my voice oozing sarcasm. "Can you imagine some of the addresses they'd have to send to? They'd never get there! Especially not if they were delivering to an unplottable location."

"Unplottable?" Jasper enquired.

That was when the lesson started. After saying goodbye to Talto and allowing him to fly off to hunt, I told them about all the spells that were used for the protection of wizards, referring both to Hogwarts and the Quidditch World Cup, all the while making use of my old textbooks, including _Hogwarts: A History_.

"What about Quidditch?" Emmett interrupted, unable to contain himself. "When do we get to see a game? I wanna go watch one!"

"I'll take you to see one sometime," I promised. "There's a book in my trunk called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Feel free to take a look through it."

Immediately, Emmett was sifting through the box, searching for the item. I didn't need to be a psychic to know that he was going to love the wizarding sport.

"Bella," Alice chirped happily, flipping shut my copy of the _Standard Book of Spells: Grade Four_, "will you show us some magic now, please?"

"You've already seen me do magic, Alice."

"Yes, but we didn't have sufficient time at Hogwarts to 'ooh' and 'ahh'. Now we'll be able to appreciate it properly!"

"Umm … well, alright. What would you like to see?" I asked, enjoying the idea that I would finally get to impress others, rather than be dazzled myself.

"Something fun!"

"What kind of fun?"

"Any kind of fun, Bella!" Alice said, a little frustrated now at having to wait. "Use your imagination!"

I thought for a second, completely aware that I had the full attention of the seven Vampires. I smiled and drew my wand from my pocket.

"You know how I always get a little moody when you try and give me a make-over, Alice?"

"A little? That's the understatement of the century."

"Well, it's because I could do the same thing in less than a minute," I announced, choosing to ignore her snide comment. "I suppose it's the equivalent of you in gym class: it's not fun having to do things the normal way when you're used to something else. Make-up itself isn't actually that offensive to me."

"Fair point," said Edward. "I find it difficult to believe, however, that you could beat Alice in that department, even if you do have magic on your side."

"Do I sense a challenge?" Alice giggled, her eyes fly to meet her brother's. Both possessed undeniable conspiratorial expressions.

"Absolutely," he answered her. "I challenge you, Bella, to complete an entire Alice-worthy make-over on yourself in a minute or less."

"Name the terms," I demanded.

"You lose … and I buy you a new car."

I gulped.

"And you are not allowed to complain, no matter what I choose for you."

His expression turned cocky as he took in my nervous countenance. I straightened up.

"Fine," I answered, determined to have fun with it, "but I win … and you have to drink one potion of my choice."

His smug face dropped instantly.

"Potion? I thought magic didn't work on us."

"Potions are a little different," I laughed. "Under the right circumstances, your body will still accept fluids. All you have to do is get the correct ratio of blood to other substances. It's like a marinade: the blood absorbs the magical properties of the additional ingredients. That's how you administer to Vampires—just whack in some grizzly, or mountain lion … or dragon."

Edward went rigid for a fraction of a second, but he couldn't back out now. He had already committed. His brothers would never let him live it down otherwise.

"OK," he agreed finally. "You're on. Your time begins … now!"

I got to work immediately, my heart picking up its pace as I remembered the consequence of losing. It was unacceptable. I twisted my hair into a tight coil and touched my wand to the tips, shooting a spell down the strands. The second I released my hair, it unwound into a thick mass of flowing spirals.

Alice gasped.

"_Accio Alice's make-up_," I said, my wand raised in the air. I wasn't shocked in the slightest by the quantity of product that came whizzing through the back door: it was easily enough to stock an entire cosmetics counter. Typical.

I wasted no time, casting my mind back to one of the grooming spells I had read about in _Witch Weekly. _Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had been practicing it for the Yule Ball in the girls' dormitory. Having no clue how to apply make-up the normal way, I had asked to borrow their copy of the magazine.

"_Decoris!"_ I exclaimed, flicking my wand at three shades of shimmering eye shadow, along with black eyeliner, mascara, blusher, and coral lipstick.

The charm didn't even require the regular Muggle instruments—the product simply transferred itself through the air in a glimmering haze of dust, fixing to the appropriate facial area. I did the same with the varnish, selecting a shiny onyx and performing a drying spell as it fit to my nail beds.

There was nothing left to do now but to observe the fruits of my labour. I conjured a mirror, leaving it suspended in mid air whilst I gazed at my reflection. The results were better than anything I could have hoped for: my hair looked like a design out of a high fashion magazine—a style falling somewhere between 'beauty queen' and 'lion mane'—and my eyes were dark and smoky, contrasting heavily with my pale shimmering lips.

I turned to look at my audience, and was delighted by Edward's gobsmacked expression. His jaw had dropped so low that it was in danger of scraping the floor. I waited for him to speak, but he seemed incapable at present.

"Nice," Alice said appreciatively. "I see why you moan so much. That took less than thirty seconds."

"I'm a little disappointed," Emmett confessed. "Sure you were quick, Bella, but I was kind of hoping for something bigger."

"What were you expecting … rainbow hair?" Rosalie asked, rolling her eyes.

"Well … yeah."

I repeated Rosalie's gesture and pointed my wand at my own head, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. Then I concentrated on performing a series of complicated non-verbal spells. The first indicator that my efforts had paid off were the simultaneous gasps spilling from the mouths of the Cullens.

I opened my eyes and peered back into the mirror. Sure enough, my make-over had exceeded even anything that Alice was capable of. My eyes were no longer chocolate; instead, they were a brilliant turquoise-green, whilst my hair had transformed from mahogany to a baby blonde.

Edward's face, in a word, was priceless.

"I guess this was a little extreme," I laughed. "Maybe I should have gone for something closer, like red."

"You can, err, do red, too, can you?" Edward asked, a little inarticulately, which was definitely unusual for him.

I giggled and nodded in response.

"Imagine the fun you could have, Edward," Emmett laughed.

I don't know what Emmett was thinking, but I was fairly sure I didn't want to know when my Vampire boyfriend aimed an irritated punch at his brother's head. Then he made his way over to me, running a strand of my buttery hair through his fingers shortly after reaching me.

"Nothing will ever top your natural colour, Bella—neither hair nor eyes," he smiled, "but you still look incredible. I have to admit that this is definitely something. Did I ever mention that I love magic?"

"No, you didn't," I laughed. "I take it this means I win?"

"You win," Edward nodded, his face turning wary. "What kind of potion are you intending on feeding me, exactly?"

"Let me worry about that. And no peaking, Alice!"

She huffed, but agreed anyway.

"What next, then?" Emmett asked eagerly.

"How about you turn Mike Newton into a toad, Bella?" suggested Edward. Esme gave her son a reproving look, but the rest of her children broke out into soft chuckles.

A loud popping sound ended the laughter immediately, and each of the males, excluding Carlisle, reflexively assumed defensive positions in front of their mates. The instant they recognised the individual stood in the middle of their back yard—or field—they straightened up, apologetic expressions on each of their faces.

"Professor McGonagall!" I said in shock.

**A/N: Hope you liked the opening chapter. **_**The Secret Keeper**_** was quite dark and heavy in places. I'm looking forward to giving the Cullen's a good time. I hope you enjoy the coming chapters. I will probably only be posting once or twice a week now, mainly due to the fact that my life has just got far busier. I'll try and do at least that, though.**

**One more thing … I know **_**'Decoris'**_** isn't a spell from the HP books. I made it up myself. I plan on doing that a lot, but I'm still taking it from actual languages like J. K. Rowling did. I got the spell from the Latin words for 'beautify' and 'face': **_**decoro **_**and**_** oris**_**.**

**Thank you! Please review!**


	2. Invitations

A/N: **Hi everyone. Thank you for your reviews. Please keep them coming!**

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan," replied Professor McGonagall. "I see you've been practicing your Transfiguration."

"Err, yes. I was just … demonstrating."

"You weren't showing off, I hope."

I blushed and bit my lip, but a slow smile crept onto McGonagall's face. I wasn't sure why, but her expression reminded me of the one Esme had worn the first time I'd met her, when she had pushed her son towards the piano: it was slightly proud.

"I'm very sorry to intrude unexpectedly," she continued, now addressing all of us, "but there is a matter of importance which I wish to discuss with you."

"Is something wro—"

"No, Miss Swan," she broke in. "It is simply the matter of your magical education. Last year, many seventh year students were unable to complete their N.E.W.T.s, for obvious reasons, and it was unanimously decided by the staff of Hogwarts that it is simply unacceptable that our students should be denied the opportunity to fulfil their examinations after suffering interruptions at no fault of their own."

"What are you saying, Professor?" I asked, a knot suddenly forming in the pit of my stomach.

"What I'm saying, Miss Swan, is that this year Hogwarts will be offering admittance to last term's seventh year students. Most of your friends have already accepted their places; would you be interested in joining them?"

For the most infinitesimal moment, my heart leapt at the idea of returning to Hogwarts, but then I remembered Edward and the others, and realised that an extra year would require an unbearable separation. Disappointment surged through me. There was no question of which I would pick.

"I think you should go, Bella," Edward said, interrupting my train of thought. His face held a sad smile: I knew he hated the idea, but he had obviously discovered my emotions through his empathic brother. I suspected that the concept of holding me back was just as painful to him as the thought of losing me for a year. I didn't want him to feel that way, but I refused to be without him.

"That's a very generous offer, Professor, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline."

Professor McGonagall's eyes flicked to Edward for the briefest moment, and then back to me.

"Forgive me, Miss Swan, but I was under the impression you were eager to gain your N.E.W.T.s."

"I was—I am—but I …" I trailed off, unwilling to give my reasons in front of Edward.

"I think I understand, Bella," she said, a kind smile lighting her features. "I had expected this …"

I knew my expression was regretful—my disappointment was becoming too difficult to mask.

"…which is why I'm going to invite the rest of your family, too."

I felt my mouth drop open. I must have misheard. I looked over to Edward; his eyes were wide as he stared at the woman in front of him, undoubtedly searching through her thoughts.

"After the loss of our Muggle Studies teacher last year," McGonagall went on, "the position has yet to be filled. You'd be surprised how few wizards and witches choose to enter that field. Those that don't, generally have limited knowledge of Muggle life. Those that do possess sufficient awareness … well, after recent events, such as the attacks on non-magical people and the Muggle-born Registration, they certainly have their work cut out for them. Never, more than now, have the petitioners for Muggle rights been so insistent!

"Therefore, Mrs. Cullen, I would like to ask you if you would be interested in the position."

"Me?" Esme asked, thoroughly astounded.

"Yes. I think your experience, along with the fact that you have successfully managed to integrate yourself into society, would qualify you for the role.

"You would not be required to leave your husband and children. Edward, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett would each be accepted into classes." She addressed the younger-looking Vampires now. "I cannot promise that you would be able to take part in every activity: certainly not Quidditch with the other students, due to the obvious danger regarding bodily strength; nor would you be able to take part in anything wand-related, as you have to be born with magical abilities in order to access that kind of power … but there's no reason why you shouldn't attend other classes.

There are some in which you would fully be able to participate: such as Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, History of Magic, Astronomy, and … Divination, though I wouldn't recommend the last."

"I don't think they'd need it anyway," I mused, "since Alice can see the future already. She's a seer."

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up; clearly, this information hadn't reached her.

"Really, Miss Cullen?"

Alice nodded.

"And do the rest of you have gifts?"

"I do, and so does Jasper," said Edward.

"Yes, I have heard about your talents Mr. Cullen. A Legilimens, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes," he responded, "and Jasper is an Empath."

"Would they not be able to use wands, either?" Emmett asked. "They do have powers, after all."

"Vampire magic isn't the same as wizarding magic," she answered. "The two are as different as dragons are to unicorns."

"It's like the Wolves," I broke in. "At first I thought they were regular Animagi—wizards that can turn into animals," I explained, noticing the furrow appearing between Edward's golden eyes. "But, then, when I went to that bonfire on the res, it got me thinking: even if they had been wizards, that wouldn't explain how they can all hear one another's thoughts when they shift. So their magic can't be anything like wizarding magic. It allows them to do similar things, but it all stems from the powers of the animal spirits they're joined with. I suppose … without the spirits, they'd be like regular Muggles … Does that make any sense?"

"I think so," Edward nodded.

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but you lost me entirely."

"Sorry, Professor," I answered. "There's a tribe nearby. Some of the people can transform into wolves, yet they're not wizards."

"I see. Well, tribal magic isn't unheard of, though it's definitely not common."

"So there are others?" Carlisle asked.

"Oh, yes," Professor McGonagall answered. "There's one tribe in the Arctic Circle—somewhere in North Alaska—whose people can transform into polar bears."

I hoped the people didn't think about heading south to Denali at any point. I doubted that the Cullens' extended family would have any objection to killing a few of them if they caught them in their animal form.

"Anyway," continued the professor, "what do you think? At the very least, a year at Hogwarts would give you a break from the repetition of your normal routine."

Disbelief was the dominant emotion visible on the faces of the Vampires. I'm sure I was wearing a similar expression.

"Forgive me, Professor McGonagall," said Carlisle, "but I still don't understand why you would invite my family to your school. It's very generous of course, but it seems a little much to be simply a means of ensuring Bella's return and comfort."

Rosalie threw her adoptive father a look that clearly said _'what the hell are you doing?' _Her concern was unnecessary, though.

"I remember what your son said to me after the battle." She waved a hand to indicate Edward. "I imagine it must be difficult having to hide your nature from the world, always forced to live as outsiders. You wouldn't be that at Hogwarts.

"I am offering you this because I feel, as do many others, that the wizarding community has an obligation, after everything that has happened, to rethink the way it treats other magical and non-magical beings. I know that Professor Dumbledore would approve. He offered a place to Remus Lupin, knowing that he was a werewolf. Besides, I think, as the phrase goes, we owe you one. There's no doubt in my mind that our losses would have been far more severe without your involvement."

"What about the Board of Governors?" I asked, confused. "Won't they have something to say about all of this?"

"The members were re-elected last month, Miss Swan. The Slytherins aren't exactly popular at the moment. I'm sure you'll understand why none of their parents made the Board."

"I have a pretty good idea, yeah."

"In all honesty, there was very little convincing for me to do. The Governors had already heard of your family. Some of them were at the battle and saw you all for themselves. Those who weren't heard it all from their children. Apparently, the students have been shouting your praises.

"We all agreed," she said, smiling at the Cullens, "that now you know of the wizarding community, it would be best if you all receive a proper induction. I can't think of a better place for that than at an educational institution, and since you were able to resist the call of human blood when it was flowing in abundance during the battle, none of us see any reason why you shouldn't be trusted now. As Professor Flitwick said before, it is about time we started judging by merit, rather than species.

"So," she finished, her eyes fixed firmly on the 'teenage' Vampires, "will you be joining us this year?"

There was one tiny moment of absolute silence, before Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie were screaming their acceptance. Edward still looked astounded to the point of speechlessness, but he nodded nonetheless and gave my hand a firm squeeze. Jasper, on the other hand, looked concerned.

"Mr Hale?" McGonagall asked as she awaited his answer.

His brow creased and he shuffled his feet as he stared at the witch. He looked nervous. That was definitely abnormal for Jasper.

"It's just that … during the battle, we had something to concentrate on. It was easier to resist. We wouldn't have that this time, and I don't want to be responsible for—"

"Nonsense, Mr Hale," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "You've demonstrated the strength of will once and, therefore, it is not beyond you now. It's as simple as that. Whether or not you were busy the first time around is, quite frankly, irrelevant. You've proven to yourself and to others that you're capable, and so I expect nothing less than perfect restraint. Is that clear, Mr Hale?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jasper replied, straightening up to his fullest height.

I distinctly recognised the determination and spark of self belief that ignited in his focused golden eyes. The sight completely reinforced my liking for the professor. She always had been my favourite teacher. I liked how she dealt everyone the same portion of fairness.

"And you, Mrs. Cullen? Will you accept the position?"

"I'd be honoured!" Esme proclaimed. "Won't I need some kind of qualification, though?"

"Only your knowledge of the Muggle world. Things are not the same in Wizarding schools: if they were, we never would have accepted Gilderoy Lockhart."

I chuckled quietly whilst the others gazed on in puzzlement.

"Doctor Cullen," McGonagall said, turning to Carlisle, "if you're interested, I've secured a placement for you at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Though you may be unaware, you've already received a full inspection at your place of work. Your uncommon restraint and compassion intrigued the inspector. He put in a good word for you. It's only thirty hours per week, and I realise that you have far more time than that to fill so, perhaps, when you're not busy, you could assist your wife in classes? I'm sure the students would be very interested to hear of the forms of medical practices that are undertaken in the Muggle world. You're free to decline, naturally, but the offer is there if you wish to take it."

"Absolutely!" Carlisle exclaimed, both shocked and delighted with the proposal. "Thank you, Professor. This is … How could I turn down an offer like that? I'm sure that would be fascinating!"

"Excellent," said Professor McGonagall, rubbing her palms together. "In that case, the placement begins one week following the students' arrival at Hogwarts, which means you'll be able to join us for the start of term feast. You will be able to use the Floo Network to travel from Hogwarts to St. Mungo's at the start of your shifts, and vice-versa.

"Mrs Cullen," said Professor McGonagall, her eyes settling on Esme, "I can arrange to have your house connected to the Network, too, if you wish, so that you will be able to travel to Hogwarts on 1st September."

Esme looked baffled. McGonagall, upon realising that the Vampires were unaware of the peculiar form of travel, explained the system briefly.

"If not, I could arrange a Port Key."

"No," Esme answered, "that would be fine."

"Good, I will have that done immediately. Here is your Floo powder." She handed Esme a large, silken drawstring bag. It was a deep emerald green and was decorated with sparkling gold swirls.

"Your children," McGonagall said, "will take the Hogwarts Express from King's Cross Station in London. Bella will explain. Here are your lists of books and equipment." She distributed seven envelopes—one to Esme, one to each of her children, and the last to me. "You will find everything you need in Diagon Alley. I would suggest somewhere more local, only I doubt the tailors would be as familiar with the Hogwarts Robes as Madam Malkin is.

"That is all, I think. I look forward to your return, Miss Swan." Her eyes travelled over the Cullens then. "And I look forward to welcoming the rest of you."

She stepped forwards to shake the hands of both Esme and Carlisle, before moving back, away from the group, her face plastered with satisfaction.

"Good day to you all," she said finally, twirling on the spot immediately afterwards, and disappearing into thin air.

As soon as she was gone, Edward rounded on his tiny sister, all the while wearing a blindingly dazzling smile.

"You knew! You knew and you never told us!"

"Of course I knew," she said happily. "I saw this on our way back from hunting. Do you have any idea how difficult it is not to think of something when you're as excited as I am? Still, I figured it would be better if you heard it from the professor."

"This is going to be amazing!" Rosalie beamed. "Finally we can go somewhere where we don't have to stick to this abysmal charade!"

"I'm going to be a teacher! I can't believe it!" Esme exclaimed with glee, her hands shooting into the air as she spun gracefully into Carlisle's arms.

"She wasn't totally honest with us about that, by the way," Edward smirked. I wasn't sure what it was, but he was clearly amused by something.

"I noticed that, too," Jasper agreed. "There was some embarrassment when she was discussing that topic with us."

"I don't understand," I admitted. "I thought she said that—"

"That all the suitable candidates were busy. Do you really believe that, Bella?" Edward asked, his mouth twitching into the breathtaking crooked smile again. "Even after what's happened, are you telling me that not one witch or wizard would be available to take up the post?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again almost immediately. Edward was right. Of course he was. Why, then, had the professor offered the job to Esme? The more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

"Professor McGonagall, though determined not to keep Muggle Studies compulsory, is eager to get as many students to take the subject as possible," he explained. "She's keen to encourage a compassionate regard for non-magical people. I suppose she sees it as the first step in preventing a repeat in history."

"That still doesn't explain why she'd ask Esme and Carlisle to take over the subject," I replied, voicing my confusion.

"Doesn't it?" Edward laughed. "Have you forgotten that we're talking about teenagers, Bella?"

"Wait," I said, the first wave of understanding finally sweeping over me, "are you telling me that … that Professor McGonagall is relying on your parents' good looks and bubbling adolescent hormones to manipulate the students into taking Muggle Studies?"

Emmett's booming laughter reverberated through the air in the next second, evidently amused by Edward's revelation.

"That's brilliant! Sneaky as hell, but brilliant!"

"And she thinks that will work, does she?" I asked disbelievingly.

"She does," Edward laughed, "and after seeing the way humans seem to respond to us, I'm inclined to agree with her. You teenagers _are_ ruled by your hormones, after all."

I felt the blush creep up my face, which only provoked further laughter from Emmett. He turned to Esme then, who was still smiling happily in her husband's arms.

"Will we have to call you Professor, Mom?"

"You will indeed, or I will be obliged to give you detention."

"And you'll be able to give House points," I said conspiratorially. "Take them from Slytherin at _every_ opportunity, and give as many as you can to Gryffindor!"

"Now, now, Bella," Esme chuckled. "I'll have to treat all the students equally. I can't favour one House more than the other."

Alice giggled at the sight of my pout.

"So when can we go to Diagon Alley?" Rose questioned.

"We're going tomorrow—first thing in the morning. The shops will be shut now—with the time difference and everything," Alice replied. "Bella, you're staying with us tonight. Oh, and now that I've seen what you're capable of, you have no excuse for not making an effort in terms of hair and make-up."

I glared at the annoying little pixie.

"What time are we setting off?" Edward asked.

"Five AM."

"FIVE AM? Alice, are you mad?" I exclaimed. "You may not need sleep, but us fragile little humans do!"

"Oh, don't play that fragile card with me, Bella," she argued. "I still haven't forgotten how badly you whooped that Death Eater when you blocked _us_ Vampires, or do you not remember the fact that you set him alight and chopped off his hand?"

"I can't believe I missed that," Emmett admitted, shaking his head whilst wearing a look of intense disappointment.

"Maybe we can re-enact," Jasper mused, shooting into the house in a flash and exiting with a handful of knives.

"Jasper!" Edward growled furiously.

"Relax, Edward," Alice said. "Here, look—she'll be better than fine."

Whatever Alice saw, it seemed to placate Edward, though he remained edgy.

"Think fast, Bella!" Jasper called.

Thankfully, Edward's little outburst had tipped me off, and I already knew the course of action I would take. The knives flew for me. With a flick and a swish, I was being pelted with a dozen red roses to a loud round of applause from a crowd that didn't match our number. It sounded as if I was surrounded by fifty rather than seven.

I bowed, much to the amusement of Edward and his family.

"My turn!" Emmett announced, running towards a giant boulder situated about a foot away from the river. He picked it up as if it was a football, and launched it in my direction.

I waved my wand, causing the thing to freeze in mid-air a couple of metres away from me. I let it hover for a second, before sending it back towards Emmett. He braced himself—ready to punch—bringing his fist back and stalling until the last possible moment. Just as he moved to swing, I flicked my wand again. Emmett roared like a maniac, thrusting his arm forwards towards the rock. The only thing it connected with, however, was sand. Having no big, solid structure to counteract the extreme force of his punch left the burly Vampire with a bit of a problem: his body was swinging forwards with such intensity that even his perfect Vampire balance couldn't save him.

He crashed to the floor with a mighty thump, falling straight into a puddle of well placed mud, caking both his face and shirt in the sloppy brown substance. That alone would have been enough to guarantee a fit of giggles; the sight of him splayed out on the earth, spitting out a mouthful of sand, however, sent me over the edge. Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Rosalie were bent over laughing; Jasper and Edward, on the other hand, were rolling on the ground, barking their hysterics.

Emmett looked up at me, and his face was one of pure confusion: it only served in adding more fuel to the fire. I clutched my stomach with one hand, and held a knee with the other to keep me supported.

In the next second, someone collided with me, and two arms snaked around my torso, lifting me off the floor in a mighty bear hug. I had expected it to be Edward, but my eyes caught a strand of wavy gold hair, and I realised with surprise that it was his brother instead.

"Thank you!" Jasper said, his voice coming out all high and squeaky as he continued to laugh too hard. "Thank you so much! This is one of the best moments of my life!"

"Oh, ha-ha!" Emmett said with sarcasm. He looked at Jasper and then at me. The first signs of a smile were showing on his face as his lips twitched at the corners. Then, all of a sudden, he broke out into great rumbling laughter. Emmett was usually a good sport, being the fun loving Vampire that he was, and the sound of his amusement only renewed my own.

"You're a tricky one, aren't you?" he mused finally.

I nodded, "The playing field is definitely a little more even now."

"Oh, you think so, do you? Maybe we should test that theory."

Emmett dived forwards, scooping up a handful of mud at lightening speed, and before I knew what was happening, it was flying straight for me. I only just had time to wave my wand to send it bouncing back at a different angle. The speed of the projectile, however, meant that I failed to get the correct aim. Instead of launching back at Emmett, the mud slapped straight into the side of Edward's head.

I giggled automatically, clapping a hand over my mouth the second the sound was out. Edward turned to me, disbelief and shock playing at his features.

"I'm so sorry, Edward," I giggled again, walking to his side. "Here, let me get that for you."

I pointed my wand at his face and yelled, "Aguamenti!"

A huge burst of water surged against his dirt covered skin, soaking his outfit as the liquid fell. He threw his hands up to protect his face against my attack, but then I just aimed for his clothes instead. When he finally did the smart thing and ran away towards his muscular brother, his white shirt had turned almost completely transparent.

"You think you're so funny, don't you, little Witch?" Edward said, grinning wickedly.

I nodded, still doubled over.

"Maybe you and I should play a little game of our own, Emmett."

"What do you propose?"

"Fist one to get Bella in the mud wins."

"Three. Two. One. Go!"

I was unprepared as they raced towards me. Having no spell in mind to defend myself, I reacted completely on instinct, spinning into the body stretching pressure and appearing about ten metres away from my original spot.

They heard the pop and turned around. My spells went flying at them. Edward dodged, but Emmett stood his ground, obviously expecting them to bounce off his impenetrable skin. It wasn't his body I was aiming for though … it was his clothes.

The instant they made the hit, the Shrinking Charm forced his white t-shirt to morph into a tiny crop-top, which cut off just below his pectorals, whilst his jeans transformed into a cerulean, swishy miniskirt, courtesy of my Switching Spell.

"Oh my, Emmett," I choked, barely able to breathe. "Have you ever considered applying for a modelling contract? You have killer legs."

By this point, Jasper and Alice were on their backs, howling madly with laughter.

I yelped as the Vampire flew straight for me. I didn't even have time to apparate or lift my wand, because, suddenly, I was airborne. I braced myself for a painful impact, but it was unnecessary. I skidded gently into the cold, wet mud. It squelched against my thighs and arms, and before I could think about getting up, two icy hands were smearing more of the grimy substance over the entire surface of my face.

"Oh, no! Look at what you've done, Emmett!" I heard Edward say theatrically. "Here, let me get that for you, Bella." The instant he finished his quote, a huge mass of freezing water came crashing down upon my head. I squealed in discomfort, and tried to move out of the way, but was held in place by Emmett's unmatchable strength.

The water went everywhere, saturating my clothes and hair, which immediately lost its shape under the weight of the liquid. Emmett released me, at last, satisfied with the payback he and Edward had together issued.

I stood and wiped the water from my eyes. When I opened them, I saw that my hands were stained with an inky black substance, and it was only then that I remembered my make-up.

"Tergeo," I said, pointing my wand at my face and siphoning it clean.

The boys were still laughing, and I saw Emmett give Edward a high-five. I smiled: it felt good playing this way with the Cullens—finally able to take part instead of sitting on the sidelines all the time—even if that did mean I ended up soaked to the bone and freezing my butt off. Edward, too, seemed far less uptight. I never would have thought that his gentlemanly morals would have allowed him to behave in such a manner. I supposed it made him happy to go along with my playfulness, as long as he knew that doing so wouldn't endanger me. I liked seeing this side of him; it was more enjoyable than his pessimism.

I ran up to him and he held out his arms for me, hugging me tightly as I crashed into his body. He flashed me a dazzling smile when I looked up, still dripping wet, as I was. My heart skipped a beat.

"That was fun," I said absently, unable to tear my eyes from his mouth.

"I thought so, too," he agreed.

Then he burst out laughing and looked away to his right. I followed his line of sight, only to witness Emmett striking a very feminine pose in front of the giant mirror I had conjured earlier.

"Absolutely, Emmett!" Edward said, undoubtedly answering some unspoken thought.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"He's wondering whether or not cerulean is his colour."

We all laughed.

"I think this skirt shows off my legs rather nicely," Emmett joked, twirling gracefully.

I giggled again, but I couldn't prevent it from becoming a shiver, one which vibrated from the base of my neck to the bottom of my spine.

"Let's get you inside, Bella," Edward said, his concern for me overtaking everything else. "Then you can have a shower and get warm."

"But I wanted to fly," I protested, looking at my Cleansweep lovingly—it had been far too long since I had last used it.

"You'll have as much time to fly as you want after tomorrow, Bella," said Alice. "Go inside and get clean. I'll call Charlie to tell him that you're sleeping over."

I reluctantly agreed and allowed Edward to sweep me up and carry me upstairs. He left me in Alice's very spacious bathroom, after placing a pair of pyjamas in the corner.

As I stepped into the stream of hot water, allowing it to rinse away the dirt caking my hair, and unknot the muscles of my back, I thought about tomorrow and what it would bring. I felt excitement flood through me as I imagined the happy faces my family would wear as I led them on a tour of the wizarding street.

One thing was certain, I thought, whilst towelling myself dry: five am suddenly couldn't come fast enough.

**A/N: I know the whole Muggle Studies thing has been done time and again, but I couldn't think of any other way of keeping the entire family together. I tried to put my own spin on it, which I hope you enjoyed, so go easy on me. Haha. Well, that's it. Please review!**


	3. Out of the Fireplace

**A/N: This will be my last chapter for about a week. I'm off to London tomorrow for a week. I might have access to a computer, but I can't be certain. So … here it is. Enjoy.**

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," a voice called, echoing from some far off place, "time to get up."

I groaned and pulled the duvet over my head, earning a deep throaty chuckle. All of a sudden, the sheets were stripped away, leaving me exposed to a rush of air, which felt cold in comparison to the cocoon of warmth I had initially been encased in. I scrunched my body into a tight ball, trying to retain the comfortable heat.

"Bella."

"Go away," I mumbled, my words muffled by the pillow I was currently pressing my face into. Edward laughed quietly again, leaning over the mattress and stroking my hair gently as he persisted.

"Alice is threatening to come and drag you out of bed. She's a little … bouncy this morning."

"She's always bouncy," I stated.

"This is different … scarier."

I huffed grumpily, "It couldn't have waited another half hour? I was having a really good dream."

"What was your dream about?" Edward questioned, unable to quell his insatiable curiosity. He straightened up and took a step back as I made to sit up.

I could've simply narrated it to him, but that would have proved far too humiliating, and it was still too early in the morning for blushing; therefore, I decided upon a course of action that would compromise him, too, rather than just myself. I fumbled for my wand, which, as per usual, was lying on the bedside table. Pointing it at Edward, I mentally chanted _'Diffindo' _multiple times, smiling as his blue button-down fell in tatters to the floor.

He stood bare-chested now, in nothing else but a pair off black trousers that contrasted wonderfully with his alabaster skin. I made no attempt to be subtle as I looked him up and down, which was probably part of the reason why Edward's eyebrows had risen half way up his forehead. I could understand why—I wasn't normally this forward; it must have been an effect of sleep deprivation.

"Mmm," I said daringly, "my dreams don't do you justice: you're even better in real life."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled a deep long breath.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me when you're like this, Bella?" he asked finally. "You know I can't—"

"Relax, Edward. I didn't mean anything by it," I broke in. "Besides, you're the one making life 'difficult', demanding that I get out of bed at this ungodly hour. Think of this as motivation."

The furrow between Edward's eyes disappeared in an instant, as a slow devilish smile overtook his features. He pivoted fluidly and walked over to his black leather couch. I had expected him to sit down, but instead he scooped a hand underneath it and lifted the thing effortlessly into the air.

He continued with the motions, pushing the sofa upwards until his arm was fully extended, before lowering it so that it rested just above his shoulder. He twisted so that he had his back to me, and I watched, completely and utterly entranced, as his muscles moved and flexed.

Throughout his entire performance, I seemed to lose any ability to control my voice. Fortunately, however, I eventually managed to recover my use of it, though it was certainly difficult to do so.

"E-Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?" he asked innocently, a smile audible in his tone.

"Um, what … what exactly are you doing?"

"Attempting to increase the effectiveness of this method of motivation."

"Oh," I said dumbly, unable to rip my eyes from his flawless body.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed to stand up, and like a helpless moth to a shinning bright light, I absently floated towards the Vampire. It was as if he had some kind of unstoppable, gravitational pull, bringing me closer and closer until I was finally bound in one of his arms. He lowered the couch back against the wall, swinging my legs around his waist whilst he supported my weight.

He kissed me then, and it was like a breath of life: I felt energised to the point where it seemed that I would never want or need to sleep again. It was probably the equivalent of popping an entire packet of Pro-Plus in one.

"It worked," he laughed. "You're up."

"The pros were beginning to outweigh the cons," I explained happily.

He kissed me on the forehead, before carrying me over to the torn remains of his shirt.

"Is there any chance of repair," he questioned, "or am I going to have to rethink my outfit?"

I motioned for him to put me down. He backed up a little whilst I hovered over the casualty. I flicked my wand and watched as the broken threads weaved back into place. Edward smiled and went to retrieve his mended shirt.

I was quicker, though. My summoning charm was non-verbal, catching Edward off guard. The blue button-down flew through the air and into my waiting hand. Edward froze suddenly, evidently confused.

"I prefer it off," I giggled, tilting my head to the side as I studied his defined torso. "I don't think anyone would object if you decided to walk down the street like this."

He laughed loudly, and was about to reply, only a high, musical voice cut him off before he got the chance.

"BELLA! STOP OGGLING MY BROTHER AND GET READY THIS INSTANT OR, SO HELP ME, I WILL COME UP THERE, STRIP YOU DOWN, AND REDRESS YOU MYSELF!"

"You'd better go," I said, terrified, immediately returning his shirt.

He took it and threw me an apologetic smile, before exiting the room.

I dressed quickly in the clothes that Alice had left out for me. The shirt was a navy and silver chequered button-down. It was sleeveless, bunching at the shoulders, and had a matching tie of the same flimsy material attached to the collar. There was also a pair of deep blue skinny jeans and a pair of silk ballet shoes, the colour matching exactly to that of my belt—a beautiful soft silver.

Admittedly, the outfit was rather pretty, but it seemed a bit silly wasting it on a trip to Diagon Alley, when the journey would leave it covered in soot.

I went downstairs to meet the others, not surprised at all to see them all gathered in front of the fireplace. Alice scrutinised my face, her eyes narrowing as she saw my lack of make-up.

"Alice," I said knowingly, "I can see what you're thinking and there's no point. We're only going to end up filthy."

"Are you a witch or what, Bella?" she demanded. "I'm not an expert on magic, obviously, but I'm fairly sure a little dirt wouldn't be a problem for you."

"She looks perfect the way she is, Alice," Edward argued, evidently annoyed with his tiny sister. "Now, can we please just go?"

"Let's!" Rosalie agreed impatiently. She crossed the room to hand me McGonagall's pouch. "How do we do this, Bella?"

I took it from her and made my way over to the Cullen's huge marble fireplace. Extracting my wand from my pocket, I pointed it at the logs that had been neatly stacked there.

"Incendio." The wood ignited instantly, fuelling the tower of red and amber flames. I took a step closer and dug my hands into the bag, grasping a fistful of the powdery substance.

"Here," I said, passing the bag to Edward, "I'll go first. Copy everything I do, and make sure you speak clearly."

He nodded, a focused expression suddenly forming on his face.

I turned back to the fire and threw the glittering powder into the flames, which reacted instantly, turning a matching emerald green. I didn't hesitate as I stepped into them, not even when I heard Esme's worried gasp. Despite the size of the fireplace, it still wasn't big enough that I could stand up straight, so I had to crouch to get my entire body in.

I spun to give the Cullens one last smile, my eyes lingering on Edward, before I finally gave the name of my destination.

"The Leaky Cauldron, London, England."

The next thing I knew, I'd been sucked into a spiralling vortex, overwhelmed by the familiar disorientation. I streaked past what must have been thousands of exits, but the network's current didn't slow for me until it brought me to the portal through which I recognised my stop. I willed my body forwards. The current immediately responded to my wishes, propelling me through the fireplace and onto the open floor of the wizarding pub.

Tom, the owner, came over to help me up. I didn't even need to perform a cleaning charm—he did it for me.

"Is it jus' you, or are more on their way?"

"There are seven," I answered.

"Seven? Crickey! Got a bit of company, don't ya?"

"Well, yeah. I guess I—" I broke off as Edward came skidding out of the fireplace. Tom rushed forwards to help him up, but he had already risen to his feet in one sinuous movement. As soon as he took in Edward's face, Tom froze. Alice came whizzing out onto the floor then, followed closely by her husband. Next it was Rosalie, Emmett after her, and, lastly, Esme and Carlisle.

"That was even more fun than the Port Key," Emmett said.

I smiled, before glancing warily at Tom. He would realise that he was facing seven deadly creatures but, unfortunately, not many people were familiar with the idea of vegetarian Vampires. It was likely that he was in fear for his life.

A furrow appeared between his eyes and his brow creased as he studied them: he looked like someone would when trying to solve a particularly puzzling math problem. But, then, unexpectedly, a huge toothy grin shot across his face until the corners of his mouth were practically touching his eyes, and his hands began flapping madly, as if he was trying to take flight.

"Oi!" he exclaimed over his shoulder. "Oi, Bigwig! Come an' look at this, would ya!"

A short and rosy middle-aged man with a patch of thinning hair came waddling into view. He gave a start upon seeing the Cullens, subsequently causing some of the contents of his beer mug to spill onto the wooden floor.

"It's alright, Bertie—it's them! It's them friendly uns that helped out at Hogwarts in May! Look at their eyes. They're gold—just like it said in the Prophet!"

Bertie—or Bigwig—took a tiny step closer and fiddled at the spectacles that hung from the cord fastened around his neck. He brought them to his eyes and peered through the lenses to inspect the strange and wonderful eye colour belonging to each Vampire. He dropped the glasses suddenly as the recognition hit, before he proceeded to run up to our group, clapping his hands all the way.

He reached Emmett first, grabbing one of his large snowy hands and shaking it vigorously whilst he bounced with excitement.

"A pleasure! An absolute delight it is to meet you!" He moved around the group, offering the same gesture to each member of the family, including me.

"We do enjoy meeting the Heroes of Hogwarts; don't we, Tom?"

"Of course," the pub owner replied. "Always a joy, it is."

"Heroes?" Carlisle asked.

"Why, yes!" Bertie continued. "All those who took part in the final battle are considered as such to those of our world. Without the collective efforts of the Heroes of Hogwarts, the ending could have been very dark indeed." He pointed a hand at the Vampires. "You, especially, made an extraordinary difference. It was all in the fifty page report issued by the Daily Prophet! Have you not read it?"

He looked disappointed at our lack of knowledge.

"I haven't been getting the Prophet for a while," I explained. "We live in Washington, you see."

"Ah, that'd explain it," Tom nodded. "Come and sit down and I'll root it out for ya. Got it saved somewhere."

He led us over to a table beside the bar where we all sat down.

"I'm Engelbert, by the way—Engelbert Bigwig—but everyone refers to me as Bertie," the little man said in his high, cheerful voice. "Which one of you is which, then? The Prophet gave your names, but there was no individual description."

We each introduced ourselves then, whilst Bertie listened with rapt attention. After Edward had taken his turn, Bertie pointed a finger at me and smiled widely.

"And you must be Edward's fiancée!" I blushed and nodded, whilst Edward grinned like the cat that had captured the canary. "Yes, yes—it was all in the Prophet. How wonderful! The Girl and the Vampire: that's the stuff of fairytales, that is! You'll be inspiring songs in no time."

We all laughed, including Tom, who came over with a tray in hand, closely followed by a line of strangers. Bertie introduced our party to the newcomers whilst Tom laid one mug of Butterbeer in front of me, and seven small glasses of some crimson substance before the Vampires.

"What is that?" Carlisle asked, completely intrigued. "I've never come across a scent like it."

"It smells delicious," Jasper noted, savouring the bouquet of the liquid. "Delicious, yet easy to resist. Nothing like human blood."

"That, my friend," said Tom, lowering his voice, "is because this right here is Dragon's blood."

"No way!" Emmett exclaimed, before giving the liquid another good sniff.

"I kid you not," Tom continued. "I've got four full bottles resting in the cellar. Bought 'em about five years ago. Never had any use for 'em, though. I'm just a simple pub owner—not one for mixing potions me. Finally have a reason to open one now though, haven't I?"

"Well, thank you very much," Carlisle said gratefully. "How much for these?"

"No, I didn't mean that, Doc! These are on the house!"

"Oh, but—"

"Nonsense!" Tom insisted, cutting off Esme. "I'll not have it. Call it a thank you gesture. If you ever fancy another, I'll not protest, but, for now, I'm paying."

The Cullens smiled and took their glasses, each looking happy with the kindness they were being shown, as well as elated at the idea of being able to sit in a bar and enjoy a drink like normal people … well, kind of.

"You want to go easy on that," Bertie said, before any of the Vampires had the chance to take a sip. "Dragon's blood is infused with magic. Regular alcohol may not affect you like it does the rest of us, but a few glasses of _that _will have you singing Odo into a hairbrush until the sun comes up. The hangover is supposed to be worse than having your head trampled by giants."

"Bertie's right there," Tom laughed. "If you enjoy it and decide to buy a few bottles in the future, I recommend you save the binges for Christmas and birthdays."

"We'll bear that in mind," said Carlisle, giving his children meaningful glances.

"Well, then," Bertie smiled merrily, "a toast … to the Heroes of Hogwarts, and a promising future … to peace at last!"

"To peace at last!" we all cheered, lifting our glasses and clinking them together.

I took a sip of my Butterbeer and watched the faces of the Cullens over the brim of my mug as they each took their first mouthful. Their eyes popped the second the blood hit their tongues. Rosalie and Esme gasped after swalloing, whilst the others gave slight coughs and hit their chests lightly with their fists, inhaling deeply through their noses.

"Damn!" Emmett laughed. "This stuff is really something!"

"That's putting it lightly," said Jasper.

"What's it like?" I asked curiously.

"I tastes amazing," Edward said, "but it burns a little, kind of like whiskey."

I gazed at him questioningly. He bit his lip and assumed a slightly guilty expression.

"When I was twelve, I snuck a glass of my father's fifty year old malt into my room. Understandably, my parents wouldn't allow me to drink it, but I wanted to know what it tasted like. I never had anything alcoholic again after that."

His face scrunched and he looked at me oddly, almost like he was utterly confused by something. Then he pressed his face into my hair and inhaled deeply through his nose, presumably savouring my scent.

"Edward, what are you doing? Surely that stuff isn't affecting you so strongly after just one sip."

"No, it's just …"

"There's no venom," Jasper finished, his eyes on his brother. Then, abruptly, he stood up and leaned across the table towards me, repeating Edward's bizarre action.

"What's the matter with you all?" I asked loudly. "Are you high or something?"

"I don't want to eat you," Jasper said to himself. "Why don't I want to eat you?"

"My throat feels … cool," Rosalie announced, one hand moving upwards from the base of her neck.

"The venom's completely disappeared," Jasper repeated. He gazed down into his glass, his expression one of complete awe. "This stuff is incredible."

"I thought you said it burnt."

"Not in a painful sense," explained Edward. He took another mouthful of blood and swilled it around for a second before swallowing. "It's a warmth that shoots down your throat and spreads through your entire body. When the venom burns, it feels like a white-hot poker is being shoved down your throat. As well as the pain, there's the feeling that you're constantly parched. But it's completely vanished now; even whilst I'm sat here next to you—my singer—there's nothing: no pain, no desire to kill you."

"How long will this last?" Carlisle asked Tom.

"Well, I can't say that I know," he responded "It's not every day you get a bunch of Vampires walking into your pub. Dragon's blood is powerful stuff, though. The effects of one glass won't last forever, but certainly no less than a few hours."

"And where will we be able to buy more of this?" asked Rosalie, tapping the side of her glass.

"The Apothecary stocks it," I told her. "It's expensive, though. I think it's about fifteen galleons per litre."

"How much is that to the dollar?"

"The exchange rate changes, but the last time I checked it was about ten dollars to the galleon, so about one hundred and fifty dollars per litre."

"Ha!" Emmett boomed, before taking another swig. "Looks like I'm buying out the Apothecary."

I laughed with the others and continued to sip my drink. Tom came over with the paper just as we were finishing. I wanted to read it but we needed to be on our way. It was already half past one in the Greenwich Meridian time zone.

_"Germino,"_ I said, pointing my wand at the paper. Nothing happened. I looked at my wand in confusion.

"That won't work, Miss," said Tom. "Copyrighted, aint it."

"Oh right, of course," I muttered disappointedly.

"Nothin' to worry about," he continued. "Here, take it. You can return it when you're done. Jus' pop on down the chimney."

"Oh, well, thank you. I'll be sure to do that."

We all said our goodbyes then. Bertie Bigwig shook hands with the men and kissed each of the females on the cheek. Tom tried to object when Carlisle offered him a generous tip, explaining that it wasn't exactly customary in England. Carlisle insisted though, and stuffed a wad of bills into the man's hand, who studied the strips of paper curiously, obviously unaware of their worth. I'm sure he'd be pleasantly surprised when he got around to converting them into wizarding money. He shook Carlisle's hand again, before waving us goodbye.

I led the Cullens through the back door and out into the tiny yard. I walked up to the brick wall standing opposite the pub and was about to tap out the secret combination, but a gasp from behind distracted me. It had come from Rosalie; she was staring at Emmett as if he had suddenly grown two horns and a tail.

"Your eyes," she whispered.

I immediately focused in on Emmett's face; my reaction to what I perceived there matched that of his wife. I had never even considered the fact that dragon's blood would affect their irises any differently to regular animal blood, yet it had, and as I gazed around the group, I realised exactly what had happened.

Emmett's eyes were an incredible icy blue; Rosalie's were a wonderful soft blue, making her appear even more angel-like; Jasper's were a piercing grey; Alice's were a strange shade, lovely and full of mystery—somewhere between green and hazel; Esme's irises were a pretty shade of hazel—they were warm and adoring as she gazed into the deep blue eyes of her husband.

Although I was a little biased, Edward's eyes were, by far, the most beautiful. Their colour reminded me of the lagoon waters of some hot country: they were a sparkling turquoise green, like the sea.

"The dragon's blood must restore the natural pigment," Carlisle said.

The only person who seemed able enough to respond, however, was Edward. The rest of us were a little busy being dazzled by the colours we'd never been lucky enough to see until now. Rosalie was the exception; she had observed Emmett's natural eye colour, as Carlisle had Esme's, but the blue of his irises, along with his dark curly hair, had been the main attraction in the first place. He'd reminded her of the baby she would never be able to possess.

"It really is powerful," Edward nodded, before shifting his stare to me and smiling.

Breathing suddenly became very difficult. I must have looked like a total idiot: my mouth kept dropping as I tried to speak, but nothing coherent came to mind. If I'd tried to communicate my wonder, it would probably have sounded like I was attempting to translate it into another language.

What was wrong with me? Normal, sane people didn't get this flustered over eyes. Most people didn't have a Vampire boyfriend, though; therefore, I wasn't to blame … Edward was. I felt my mouth lift into a huge smile.

"I should have known, I guess," I managed, finally.

"Should have known what?"

"That even before the venom, they'd still have dazzled me."

I felt my rising blush as I remembered the others, and quickly turned back to the brick wall, tapping the correct amount of times with my wand. The bricks began to shake madly, before the wall suddenly divided into two to reveal the long cobbled and colourful street that was Diagon Alley.

Years ago, I had believed that nothing would be able to top my first ever trip here. Years ago, of course, I hadn't anticipated that I'd later have Edward to share it with. I laced my fingers through his and pulled him into the wonder.

**I hope you liked it. Please review!**


	4. A Little Retail Therapy

**Good news! Turns out I do have access to a computer in London. Here's the next chapter. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story so far. Thanks for all your great comments!**

Alice giggled behind me as we walked into the alley, whilst the rest of the Cullens gazed on in wonder at the surrounding scene. Everything seemed fascinating to them: from the clothes to the signs above the shop windows. It had been that way for me, too, on my first visit.

"Where to first?" Emmett asked.

"Gringotts," said Alice. "We need to get our money changed."

She took the lead, towing Jasper to the front in her excitement. Even without her foresight, she would hardly have had difficulty locating the wizarding bank; it wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

The witches and wizards gawked at us—or, more specifically, at the Vampires—as we made our way through the crowd. Even I, with my average human hearing, could pick up the mutterings of the people we passed. Although some didn't immediately recognise the Cullens, many did, regardless of their temporary eye colour.

Eventually, we reached the tall bronze doors of the bank, beside which stood two goblins, one on either side.

"Remember," I whispered, before any of the Vampires could enter, "goblins are both extremely easy to offend and very unfriendly. Do not make any gaffs about their appearance. Don't try to be funny in any way. In fact, it would probably be better not to be overfriendly either—they don't really trust anyone outside their own race, so anything beyond a business-like attitude would probably just make them suspicious. OK?"

The Cullens nodded and waited for me to lead them up the marble steps. The goblins eyed the Cullens as we passed. There could be no doubt that they were aware that they were admitting Vampires into Gringotts, and it seemed to make them sourer than usual. I'm sure they'd have a change of heart if the Cullens ever decided to open an account. One thing was certain, the vault belonging to them would definitely be buried far deeper in the earth than mine.

Next came the silver door, above which the Gringotts warning stood in great letters for all to see. I smiled as I remembered that the threat of retribution had not deterred Harry, Ron or Hermione. I was curious as to what treatment they had been dealt by the treasure keepers following their little heist. I would have to be sure to ask.

Upon entering the marble hall, I pointed to the long counter at the far end, before heading off towards it, the family moving closely behind me.

We approached one of the free goblins. He was examining a large stack of galleons, and recording something in a momentous, leather-bound book. He seemed to be younger than most, his face possessing less wrinkles than his colleagues. He examined us over the rim of his rectangular spectacles as we arrived before him, and the distaste and fear defining his expression were unmistakeable.

"I would like to visit my vault, please," I said, digging the small golden key from the depths of my purse. He studied it for a moment and then slid it back across the counter. "Also, Doctor Cullen would like to convert U.S. dollars."

"Very well," the goblin said, regarding the vampires warily. "May I take your bills please sir?" I averted my eyes as Carlisle extracted the money from his briefcase, instead choosing to concentrate on the goblin's face whilst he counted the amount. His eyebrows rose a fraction once he had finished.

"And this is just for conversion, sir? Do you have an account here with us at Gringotts?"

"Not yet," answered Carlisle.

"Would you be interested in opening one?" Yes, the size of the Cullens' pockets would undoubtedly interest the goblins.

"In the future, perhaps. Today we are merely here for school supplies."

The goblins face turned disbelieving. Obviously, the amount that Carlisle was converting didn't match what he claimed we were here to purchase. Nevertheless, he nodded and pulled open a drawer to his left, and took out a brown leather bag bearing the Gringotts emblem. Next, he waved a hand at a pair of goblins a little way away. They came walking over immediately.

"I require a size fifteen set of scales, please."

The goblins' eyes shot to the Cullens for the briefest possible moment, before they scuttled away through a set of doors. They returned in a minute, both pulling a massive trolley, upon which lay a gigantic set of gold scales. They waited whilst the other goblin worked. First, he loaded a ridiculous amount of gold bars and a few silver ones onto one side; next he began to tip out a mound of galleons onto the other. I kept expecting the pile to stop growing—for the weights to level out—but even when the stack was a foot high, the two sides were still unbalanced.

"What exactly are you planning on buying today, Alice?" I whispered incredulously. "A unicorn herd?"

"Don't be silly, Bella. We just want to prepare ourselves that's all," she told me, rolling her eyes in an Edward like fashion. "How annoying would it be if one of us saw something we wanted and we hadn't brought enough cash to buy it? Personally, I don't feel like traipsing across London to the Bank of England."

"But you'll run half way across Washington for a snack?"

"Yes."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

At last, the scales reached a balance, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Carlisle requested that the money be split into eight bags. The goblin complied, and instead of transferring it to the original sack he had prepared, he divided it equally. Carlisle took the bags and handed one to each of the Vampires, and then one to me. I immediately objected and tried to push his offering back into his hands, but he refused, crossing his arms tightly.

"Carlisle, I have my own vault to go to. I have everything I need there."

"Bella, what's the point of damaging your own savings when we have more than enough to go around?" Alice said in frustration.

"I have enough money to take care of myself, though. Honestly, this is extremely generous of you, but you really don't ha—"

"We know we don't have to," Carlisle interrupted with a kind smile on his face, "but we want to. You're family, Bella … practically a daughter to Esme and I. Would you please start allowing us to treat you as such? It would make us happy."

…

Damn it! I could hardly say no to that. Firstly, if I did, I'd have to suffer the resulting guilt trip; secondly, being considered a Cullen was one of the best feelings in the world. I really didn't like the idea of accepting the riches they constantly tried to force on me, but I guess extravagance was an unavoidable aspect of their lifestyle. If I ever intended on becoming a Cullen myself—a Mrs Cullen at that—this was just something I would have to get used to.

I reluctantly gave in and turned my attention to the goblin, who had watched the entire exchange, all the while wearing an expression of curiosity and amusement.

"I won't be needing to visit my vault after all."

"I had gathered that, young lady," he said with a smirk, his beetle-like eyes never leaving me as I nodded my thanks. I spun on my heels, before heading back towards the silver doors.

It was a good thing that Gringotts bags carried weightless and undetectable extension charms; otherwise I probably would have needed something the size of a potato sack to carry my share around, and even then I would have needed to tow it along the floor.

Edward had a triumphant look about him. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. I cocked an eyebrow.

"It's just good to finally see you admit defeat for once," he laughed. "I wish you'd let us give you things more often. It feels nice."

"Yeah, well, I would if I were able to …return … the favour."

I suddenly had a brainwave. It hit me so forcefully that I almost stumbled backwards. There _was_ something … something I could give them … something that they didn't even know was possible. My eyes flicked to the bag of galleons I held in my hand, and I knew in that instant exactly what I would do to repay the Cullens.

"Alice," I said, remembering the fact that trying to surprise the family was virtually impossible. My mind may have been impenetrable to Edward, but the future was as easily readable to my best friend as an open book. I made a snap decision—the kind I should definitely think twice about—and addressed the little psychic Vampire.

"Yes, Bella?"

"I need you to … do something for me."

"Like what?"

"I need you to promise me … that you won't look into any of our futures until I say it's ok."

"What? No way, Bella."

"Please, Alice! I promise you it'll be worth it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you. At least promise me you won't do it until we're alone somewhere so you don't give it away to Edward."

"Give what away?" he asked in confusion.

"If I told you, that would technically be giving it away." I turned back to Alice and looked her in the eyes. "If you do this for me, I'll let you select every outfit I wear for the next fortnight."

Her eyes narrowed and she licked her lips. I knew that this was the only offer she'd be tempted to accept. Denying herself her sixth sense would practically be torture to Alice; she would never agree to it unless I made it worth her while.

"Total control?" she clarified. "You wouldn't protest no matter what I select for you?"

"As long as it's within reason—nothing that's going to make me feel like a ... well, you know."

"Would I do that to you, Bella?" she said seriously.

"No, I trust you on that front."

"So we have a deal? I have complete control of your appearance, including hair and make-up, providing that I don't look into any of our futures until you say, unless it happens to be a dire emergency?"

"A life or death emergency! If I get wind that you've broken the deal, Alice, I'll perform a vanishing spell on your entire shoe collection!"

For a brief moment, her face reflected the horror my promise had provoked. I may as well have threatened to turn her Porsche into a guinea-pig.

"Alright," she nodded, composing herself and holding out her hand in offering.

I took a deep breath, wondering as I did so whether or not I had actually lost my mind, before I sealed the deal. We shook with the others as our witnesses, both of us as determined as the other to honour our side of the bargain. I knew Alice wouldn't let me down. She could be pesky at times, but she valued friendship as much as I did.

"Wow, Bella," she chuckled, releasing my hand. "Whatever you have planned must really be something if you're willing to let go of your terrible abstinence from fashion."

I stuck my tongue out at her and resumed my walk towards the Gringotts exit.

"So, where are we going first?" Emmett asked again.

"How about the book store?" I said, "You lot need to buy your text books."

The others agreed and we began walking towards Flourish and Blotts. I stopped to buy a copy of the Daily Prophet from the paper man on the way, rummaging through my purse for the adequate amount of knuts. The drawstring bag I stored my change in must have fallen to the bottom because not once did my hand brush along anything velvety. I felt the blush creeping onto my face as the man stood waiting for payment. Edward came to the rescue and flipped him a galleon.

"Keep the change," he smiled, linking my arm with his again as we began walking away.

I glanced over my shoulder at the man. He was grinning like all his birthdays had come at once as he pulled off his cap and waved it at us. I smiled back at him before unfolding the paper. My eyes popped the second I read the headline, which read: _A.P.E.R.M. SECURES RESIGNATION OF MINISTRY OFFICIAL._ At the very centre of the page was the image of a seething Dolores Umbridge. My heart jumped as I began reading the article.

_After a two month battle against the high ranking and particularly nasty Ministry worker, Dolores Umbridge, the Association for the Promotion of Equal Rights for Muggle-borns has finally succeeded in forcing the witch's resignation._

_Following her involvement in the Muggle-born Registration Commission, Umbridge, the senior undersecretary to the Minister, became a source of hatred for those committed to the movement against You-Know-Who. Although the Chosen One, Mr Harry Potter, was able to rid the world of the greater horror, the lesser evil remained unslain._

_Yesterday, however, following the formal hearing of Dolores Umbridge, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the recently elected and now permanent Minister for Magic, announced her dismissal from the Ministry. In an exclusive interview, Lorkin Hagglebott, the founder of A.P.E.R.M., expressed his relief._

'_We have been working towards this since You-Know-Who's defeat. Dolores Umbridge is an abomination and a smear upon the Ministry's name. Its reputation has already been tarnished in recent years. Keeping such a brutal and cruel woman in its employ, after she enforced the laws that sentenced countless innocents to Azkaban, including children, would have culminated in a complete loss of faith in the Ministry's ability to run the British magical community._

'_Securing Umbridge's exit from power was far more difficult than it should have been. Unfortunately, when she imprisoned the Muggle-borns, she was acting under Ministry law. Originally, our aim was to ensure some form of sentence to give her a taste of her own medicine; that, of course, due to circumstances, became an impossibility._

'_Shacklebolt's full appointment was nothing short of a godsend. He amassed a heap of evidence against the witch, including documentation and statements regarding her reign and disciplinary methods at Hogwarts. Although he could not legally send her to Azkaban, it was within his authority to find her unsuitable for her position of power. When it came down to a choice between a desk job or her resignation from the Ministry, Umbridge's pride forced her to take the latter.'_

_Mr Hagglebott went on to state that he is extremely confident that the new Minister will bring about the reform the system so desperately needs. He and other members of A.P.E.R.M., meanwhile, will continue in their attempts to secure compensation for the families that suffered under the tyrannical ... (continued pg 2)._

I let the paper drop to my side as we turned into Flourish and Blotts. My grin felt so large and fixed that my skin was surely in danger of cracking.

"You look happy," Edward stated.

"I am." I handed him the Prophet. If he was surprised at all by the moving pictures, he gave no hint of it. Within fifteen seconds, he had read the front page and was turning to the second. He gave a single humourless chuckle, before flipping the paper shut.

"So ... that's the woman that would have put you away. I'd love to meet her."

"No, you wouldn't. She looks even more toad-like in real life, and when she speaks, it sounds like a cat being tortured. Plus, she wears far too much pink. It's really horrible."

His face broke into a blinding smile. It was so beautiful it was almost painful to look at, like staring at the sun. I continued to walk forwards, my mouth hanging wide open whilst my eyes remained glued to Edward's smile.

Suddenly, his hands shot out and pulled me into him at such speed that the entire movement was a blur.

"You really need to start paying attention to where you're walking, Bella."

He indicated a pile of precariously stacked books. It was definitely a good job Edward had pulled me out of the way; it would have completely collapsed, otherwise.

"If you stopped dazzling me, that wouldn't be a problem," I countered, "so to ensure the safety of Flourish & Blotts, why don't you and your siblings go and purchase your school books, whilst I go and scan the shelves?"

"What about your books?" Emmett asked.

"I only need _Advanced Charms Volume II _and the second level of _Intensive Herbology_. My other subjects carry over the same books that we used in sixth year.

"Alright," said Edward, "why don't I pick those up for you whilst you browse?"

"Oh, would you?" I asked innocently. I had secretly been hoping that Edward would suggest this. I wanted to keep him occupied whilst I searched for the material I needed.

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead, before heading off on his hunt with the others; then, I set off on one of my own.

I weaved my way through the maze of tall bookcases until I found the section I was looking for: the one on Vampires. It was in the second aisle from the back. None of the Cullens would need to venture this far back. Hogwarts sent the store an annual list indicating the books it would need to stock. Those were usually found at the front of the shop to ensure an easy purchase for students. Still, I didn't want to spend too much time here; otherwise, they would probably come looking for me.

I read along the spines of the books. There was everything from _Voyage with Vampires _by Gilderoy Lockhart, to _Venom: Theories of Origin_ by Wolfgang Harker. The second title interested me, but it wasn't what I was looking for. I decided to buy it anyway, and tucked it under my arm as I resumed my search. Finally, I found what I needed. It was a thick A4 sized book, bound in navy leather upon which silver lettering had been elegantly etched.

It was entitled _The Undead: Potion Adaptation and Magical Administration_ by Tobias Adamson. Beside it laid a book by the same author—its sequel: _The Undead: Potent Potions and Exclusive Concoctions_. I picked up both books and quickly flicked through the pages to contents pages. My eyes caught on the title of one chapter in _Potent Potions_. It was precisely the thing I needed. Immediately, I turned to the necessary page where I located the desired recipe. Surprisingly, the potion wasn't overly complex. The list of ingredients wasn't overly extensive either, though some of the items were certainly expensive.

I summoned a notepad from the depths of my purse, along with a fountain pen, and scribbled down a shopping list for later. Once I had finished, I crept back in the direction of the checkout with the three books secured firmly under my arm.

To my extreme relief, the family were all busy, scattered in different areas of the shop. Alice and Rosalie were in the magical creatures section; Carlisle and Edward were in the History section; Esme was looking at texts on Herbology; Emmett and Jasper were in the recreational section, filling their heads with information on Quidditch. I really would have to take them to a game sooner or later.

I quickly bought the books after reaching the front of the short queue. The sales woman was very friendly, though she looked at me oddly upon seeing the titles that had captured my interest. She was rather small and possessed a thick mass of short curly hair. It was dark on top—a deep mahogany—but the sides both had sprouts of contrasting silver. I thanked her as she passed me the bag containing my purchases, before I transferred it to my magical purse and went to rejoin Edward.

"Having fun?"

"Absolutely!" he admitted. "There are so many topics here I'm going to have to read up on. I'll have to be sure to leave a pile by your bed for when you go to sleep."

"Well, you'll certainly have time for study when we're at Hogwarts," I said sadly. "You won't be allowed in the girls' dormitory. It's forbidden."

Edward's face fell instantly: he looked like a child that had just been told Christmas was being cancelled.

"I never even considered that."

I stroked the side of his face in my attempt to reassure him.

"It's not the end of the world. At least we'll be together when I'm conscious. You'll be able to spend your nights exploring the castle, rooting out its secrets."

He smiled slightly, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"Surely, after six years of living there, you know all there is to know about the castle already."

"Not at all," I said, shaking my head. "Hogwarts is an incredibly powerful place. I don't think any student in history can boast that they've discovered everything there is to know about it."

"I'll have to work hard then."

He looked away and I followed his line of sight to where his parents, brothers, and sisters were queuing. I would have commented on the amount they were intending to purchase, but, if I was being honest, nothing surprised me with them anymore. Edward ruffled my hair, before heading off to join the queue himself.

I stood by the door whilst I waited. Each of their arms were loaded with book bags when they had finished. At this rate, they wouldn't have enough room left for the rest of their things.

I reopened my purse and indicated for them to drop their things in. Alice was the first to catch my drift. She danced forwards and lowered her bags in, before stepping back to allow the others to do the same. When all their hands were free, each of them glanced about our circle, their eyes alight with both wonder and amusement. Then we left the shop and continued on our mission for supplies.

We bought everything from dragon hide gloves to school robes. The time we spent in Madam Malkin's store was thoroughly entertaining. Rosalie and Alice had a difficult time keeping straight faces as the boys took their turns to stand upon the stools, whilst the robe makers became increasing flustered, blushing profusely as they fussed over them.

"I'm surprised Madam Malkin didn't sew her contact details into your robes," I teased lightly as we left the store, "with the way she was eyeing you, Emmett."

"She must be into real men," he chuckled, his eyes on Jasper and Edward.

"Actually, she was crooning over your adorable dimples, tough guy," Edward sniggered.

Emmett aimed a switch punch at him, but missed by a fraction due to his brother's speediness.

Finally, we reached the part of our shopping spree which I had been anticipating the most: Slug and Jigger's Apothecary. Once I had replenished my potions kit, I took the list for Adamson's recipe from my pocket, and began my hunt for ingredients. My basket was practically overflowing by the time I had found everything. Alice and Edward eyed me suspiciously as I paid for my things.

"What did you buy?" asked Alice.

"Just a few things," I shrugged. "Some dragon's blood, powdered hellebore, black bettles, wartcap powder—those kind of things."

"Oh ... right."

"This should be fun, Jazz," Emmett laughed as we left the shop. "Imagine all the crazy cocktails we'll be able to brew up."

"I don't think that wouldn't be the best idea, Emmett," Rosalie chided. "Knowing you, you'll probably mix up some kind of shrinking drug that will leave you two feet tall."

"Or something that will sap your strength and reduce the size of your muscles," said Alice.

"_All _your muscles," Jasper added wickedly.

I felt heat flood my face at his suggestion. Emmett froze for a second before throwing me a questioning glance, which clearly asked '_is that possible_'. I shrugged, hoping to convey nonchalance, and said, "Stranger things have happened."

"To you?" asked Emmett, his eyebrows arching.

I nodded and blushed again.

"In fourth year, Lee Jordan spiked my pumpkin juice with frequency potion.

For two days solid, it sounded like I was inhaling helium. Whenever I opened my mouth, the room erupted with laughter; even McGonagall had a difficult time keeping a straight face the first time she heard me speak."

The Cullens giggled at my story, only to break into further hysterics as I regaled them with the tale of my revenge.

"I didn't really do things by halves back then. If I got it into my head that I wanted to make a fool of someone, I made sure I did it properly. So I slipped Lee a love potion—" Edwards eyes bulged at this point, "—right after I'd succeeded in acquiring one of Filch's hairs. Everyone thought that Lee was messing around when he started chasing Filch through the corridors declaring his undying love. Filch tried to beat him off with a broom in the middle of the Great Hall, but Lee just kept saying that he was 'playing hard to get'. I think it was when he got down on one knee that everyone realised that he was actually serious.

"Snape gave him the antidote and he came back to his senses, immediately after which he chased me around the entire castle until neither of us could run anymore."

That was one of my favourite memories, strangely enough. Lee and I had ended up laid at the top of the Astronomy tower, laughing our heads off. Then the Weasley twins had joined us and...

I cast the memory aside, trying desperately to dispel the terrible ache in my chest. A wave of calm suddenly overtook me, and Edward gave my hand a firm squeeze.

With all our school supplies bought, we decided to check out the stores we had not yet visited: the curiosity of the seven Vampires would only ever be satisfied when they had seen everything—that much was certain. On our way down the bustling cobbled street, Esme pointed to the shop window of _Cotton & Tweed's_, where there stood an interesting display of wizarding furniture. One piece—a contemporary sofa—couldn't seem to make up its mind which pattern it preferred, and kept switching from zebra to leopard print.

"Can we have a look?" Esme asked.

We all nodded, and followed her into the shop. It was larger than it had appeared from the outside. Almost every space was cluttered with by the eclectic collection of furniture. The shop seemed to stock everything a wizarding household could want, its products ranging from antiques to items of a more modern style.

In the corner behind the cash desk sat a quiet, white haired man. He continued to scan the Prophet whilst we walked about his shop, and he only looked up from his reading material once, as far as I noticed.

After browsing around for a few minutes, I skirted around the furniture towards the staircase at the back of the store. At the bottom, there was a sign pointing upwards which read: _Tents upstairs._ My curiosity spiked and I began my climb. I'd never been in a wizarding tent, but I'd been informed of what the interiors were like by Ginny Weasley, shortly after the Quidditch World Cup.

The others followed, evidently as intrigued as I was. Upon reaching the second level, we were met by a large room which was occupied by at least twenty small tents, all of them similar in size. From the outside, not one looked big enough to shelter more than three people. I approached the cheapest looking one. It wasn't extravagant like the others. Its exterior was plain—a flat, dark green—whereas the neighbouring tents were much more colourful. Some were decorated with strange shadow shapes that move over the material as easily as the people did in the Hogwarts portraits; some were covered with silver stars that twinkled against black backgrounds.

"These are all very pretty, Bella," Emmett smirked, "but they're also absolutely tidgy. If you're thinking of camping, I vote you do it our way. This is obviously just one area that wizards haven't perfected yet."

"I agree with Emmett," Edward said, "You'd probably end up with neck problems if you spent too much time in one of these."

"Yup. Sorry, Bella, but small and puny isn't how we roll."

"I guess you're right," I sighed, stroking the fabric in what I'm sure, to them, seemed a regretful manner. Then I turned to face Emmett full-on. He looked smug—happy, no doubt, at having finally found something that non-magical people did better. I felt rebellious and a playful grin crept onto my face.

"On the other hand...this _is _the wizarding world—maybe it's about time you learnt how _we_ role."

I flashed my teeth in a wide smile and backed into the tent. It was as large inside as I had expected it to be, and I certainly didn't have to stoop as Edward had predicted. The interior was decorated with luxurious gold and ivy silk curtains that hung around the edges and separated the various sections. In the middle of the main room, a large circular patch of the chocolate carpet had been replace with cushions of varying shades of green, brown and gold. The others hadn't followed me in yet, so I moved over to the soft area and laid down, feeling utterly relaxed as I inhaled the incense that burned only a few feet away on a low ebony table.

I watched the smoke as it rose and swirled, all the while forming wonderful animal shapes that moved lazily about the room. The soft light of the tiny surrounding candles gave an additional soothing aspect to the atmosphere of the tent. I could easily have fallen into a slumber there and then if the gasps of the Vampires hadn't alerted me. I giggled at the sight of their gobsmacked expressions.

"You should write an advisory letter to the makers, Emmett," I said, closing my eyes again, "to instruct them on how to make decent and effective camping material. You were right—this is awful."

"How is this possible?" Carlisle wondered aloud.

"Have we shrunk?" Emmett shouted nervously.

"Not at all. It's a similar spell to the one I put on my purse. This is Wizard Space ... space within space, I guess."

"This is incredible!" Esme said, moving about the place to inspect the different areas. "There's even a kitchen! And a bathroom!"

The others followed her and examined the rooms with their awe visible in their expressions.

"What about the other ones?" Rosalie asked excitedly. "They looked flashier than this one. What are they like inside?"

"I have no idea," I admitted.

She flew out of the tent in a flash, closely tailed by Alice, Jasper and Emmett. I turned to Edward worriedly; he was observing the hazy shapes with a mixed look of both amusement and wonder.

"They look a little over-excited. They're not getting any crazy ideas, right?"

"By crazy, do you mean are they thinking about buying one of these?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Then, yes."

I shook my head. I should have known.

I allowed Edward to pull me from the tent and towards a scarlet one, which bore a golden phoenix design.

"These are your colours, I do believe," smiled Edward.

This one was even more luxurious inside than the other, its interior following the colour scheme of the outside. Gold hammocks were strung in every corner, and behind the silk curtains that hung between the bathroom and one of the three bedrooms, lay a bubbling Jacuzzi, the waters of which possessed an amber tint.

Keen to explore every single tent, the Cullens moved from one to the other, dragging me along with them. I had to admit that some of them were absolutely amazing.

A jolly looking wizard was waiting for us as we exited the last tent. He clapped his hands together and began introducing himself.

"Hello, there. Lovely to meet you. Name's Tweed—Hobson Tweed. Mr Ctton downstairs mentioned we had a few visitors. Quiet chap he is; I'm a bit more boisterous myself. Now, has anything caught your eye, my good sir?"

Tweed didn't give Carlisle time to answer before he launched into his pitch.

"We have this lovely new model over 'ere." He waved a hand in the direction of a bright yellow tent. "The music charm it carries is fully insured. If it starts to fade out at any point, you're entitled to bring it in for a service. Also—"

"How much would it cost for one of these?" Rosalie interrupted, clearly growing tired of the wizard's rabbiting.

"All of these fall between four hundred and two thousand galleons," he replied.

"Oh," said Carlisle in surprise, "I was expecting it to be more than that."

I distinctly saw the man's eye give a definite twinkle, and he licked his lips quickly as he looked over the family, taking in their classic yet understated designer outfits. Tweed probably wouldn't recognise the brands but, even then, he was smart enough to be able to determine that the Cullens enjoyed some degree of wealth.

"These are our less expensive products," he admitted slowly. "If you're looking for something more ... up market, I'd be happy to give you a viewing. We keep our more expensive pieces in the next room."

I saw the mouths of Alice and Rosalie trembling as they spoke at a level undetectable to humans.

"Yes, please," Carlisle said politely.

The man turned and led us through a set of double doors into a room occupied by nine tents, each of which was slightly bigger than those we had just seen. Three had chimneys; four had small gardens enclosed by white picket fences; one had another Jacuzzi outside and the English Quidditch team's flag hoisted above the entrance.

Tweed waved a hand at an empty space at the back of the room. Then he disappeared into thin air, only to reappear moments later.

"This one comes with a fully installed disillusionment charm."

The others looked impressed, but I whispered to them under my breath, warning them against wasting galleons on invisibility when a few minutes of spell casting could yield similar results.

"This isn't the kind of thing we're looking for," Edward announced. "We'd prefer something that could pass for an ordinary tent."

"Ah, well then," Tweed said, indicating the final tent, "maybe this is the one you want."

He walked up to the final one. It was a beautiful midnight blue and, aside from the gold half sun and silver half moon that had been embroidered on either side of the entrance divide, it looked completely ordinary. The inside, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

"This model was inspired by the Great Hall at Hogwarts School," the wizard said from behind us.

I gazed around in wonder at the incredible room before me. It was a huge open space, above which stretched a sky scattered with white fluffy clouds. There were breaks in places, though, so the radiant sun had the chance to shine through, the magical enchantment giving the illusion of warmth as wonderful golden rays bathed my face and body. I peeked at the Cullens briefly: the artificial light didn't seem to affect them as regular sunlight did. Their skin gave a soft shimmer, but no more than that.

Hundreds of unlit candles hovered beneath the afternoon sky. They would probably begin burning automatically sometime after sunset.

Beneath my feet laid a midnight blue carpet. It was soft and thick enough that it would easily make a fitting bed.

As with the first tent, a thick sunken space at the centre of the room had been filled with luxurious cushions so that it levelled out with the surrounding floor. They were beautiful shades of dark blue and silver, all made from silk, taffeta, satin, and chiffon.

Lining one wall were three dark wooden, towering bookcases, each of which appeared to have been stocked with both old and recent material. Carlisle eyed them longingly. There were, also, a number of other interesting things in the living area, including six floating silver hammocks, and a grand table holding a massive wizard chess set.

On either side of the room were two winding staircases that led up to a narrow landing running along the length of the wall opposite me, where six silver doors were set against the silky navy fabric cloaking the walls.

"Come and take a look," Tweed said, leading us up to the second level. "Wonderful little trick this. A stroke of genius if you ask me."

He opened the door to the first room, and I almost fell backwards at what I saw. It was a magnificent bedroom, furnished in a matching style to that of the downstairs: an enormous bed blanketed by dark silver silk rested invitingly beneath the brilliant sun. What was shocking about the room, though, was not the consistent luxuriousness; it was its vast size. In terms of space, it was, without a doubt, equal to that of the main area.

"Undetectable extension charm within an undetectable extension charm," explained Tweed, bouncing on his tiptoes. "Technically speaking, this tent is a masterpiece."

"No kidding," Emmett replied absently, as he gazed around the room.

"All the bedrooms are the same in size, and all are enchanted to be completely soundproof, of course." I blushed as Tweed continued. "You can have a look in the others if you like, but there's no difference."

There were four other bedrooms, and one bathroom upstairs. The bath was more like a miniature swimming pool. It released different colour bubbles, depending on the tap you turned.

"Mr Cotton, the architect, was a prefect at Hogwarts. This room was inspired by the prefect's bathroom. One of these taps will give you sparkling pink water. Very popular with the ladies, but not so much with the gents, or so I'm told."

Tweed led us downstairs then, through the door beneath the left set of stairs which opened into the kitchen. The work surfaces were made of some mineral, onyx in colour. Naturally, there were no electrical appliances. Adjacent to the kitchen was a dining room in which stood a table of black glass. A large silver vase stood at its centre, holding a collection of bluebells and white lilies. They had been charmed so that sparkling dew clung to the petals, reflecting the light more beautifully than regular raindrops. They reminded me of Vampires in the sunlight, making the bouquet possibly one of the best I had ever beheld.

Beneath the other set of stairs of the living room was another bathroom and a ridiculously vast wardrobe, one which already came stocked with a full range of wizarding outfits. Alice eyed the dresses; I didn't need to be an Empath to recognise that her eyes were overflowing with lust.

"All designer," Tweed said, looking at the tiny Vampire. He too, apparently, hadn't missed the longing plain on her face. He took a silvery dress from the rack and handed it to her. "Go try it on."

Ah. This one evidently knew what he was doing.

Alice ran from the room in a blur. The man's eyes popped for a second, but he said nothing. When she returned, she looked even more stunning than usual. My stomach lurched for a moment as I thought of how severe the contrast was between us.

The material clung to her every curve, fanning out at the top of her thighs into a full skirt that shimmered subtly as it caught the light. Like the flowers I had just seen, the skirt was littered with enchanted dewdrops, causing the dress to sparkle as if it had been dusted with thousands of tiny diamonds. The neckline plunged in a square cut that ended just beneath her chest.

She twirled gracefully to give us the full view. The dress was completely backless; Alice's snowy vampire skin looked lovely as it met the delicate fabric.

Jasper looked at his wife like a man who had seen the sun for the first time after suffering a lifetime of darkness.

"The finest spider silk," Tweed nodded. "Very beautiful."

"I'll say," Jasper gawked.

"Onward then," said the salesman, as he headed back to the living hall and towards the final door. I knew already that the chances of the Cullens leaving _Cotton & Tweed's _empty handed were virtually nonexistent: no matter what laid behind the final door, it couldn't possibly contribute more to the decision than the wardrobe had.

I was wrong.

"Holy freaking b'Jesus!" Emmett exclaimed. "A pool? Is this place for real?"

It was amazing, stretching roughly about thirty metres in length beneath the artificial sun.

"I'm sure you can imagine ... this place is pretty spectacular at night. Nothing like a swim beneath a starry sky. The view is probably better in here than it is outside. Less light pollution and what not.

"So wotcha think?" he finished, turning to Carlisle. "A beauty, isn't she?"

"Absolutely," Carlisle replied, his eyes on the sky. "It's superb."

"How much?" asked Rosalie.

"Ah, therein lies the problem. Why don't we discuss that outside?"

I stayed with Alice whilst the others went to talk money with Tweed.

"They're not really going to buy this place are they?"

"If they don't, I will," said Alice, from the other side of the wardrobe door.

"But there was nothing wrong with the others, and they were probably far less expensive. Bear in mind that this is just a tent, Alice."

"It's not a tent, Bella," she sang, "it's a collapsible house with a kick-ass wardrobe. I'd pay a thousands of dollars for this dress alone."

She pulled open the door then, having changed back into her own clothes.

"Come on, let's go meet the others."

The Cullens and the salesman were finishing up when we reached them. Tweed was transferring an absurd amount of gold into a bag of his own. It said a lot about the sum of money that the Cullens had brought on their shopping trip that they could afford to buy the tent without having to visit the Bank of England. The Muggles might accept American Express, but credit cards were worthless in Diagon Alley, even if they were the platinum kind.

Each Vampire was wearing a smile of satisfaction as we left the store. Oh, well—whatever made them happy was good with me. The only shop left to visit now was _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. I knew Emmett would refuse to leave the alley until he had paid a visit to the place. When we got there, I pointed out the different models of broomsticks.

"That one there is a Cleansweep Seven like mine, and over there are the Nimbuses."

"What's that one over there?" Jasper asked curiously, indicating the cabinet around which a small crowd had assembled.

We made our way over and peered over the shoulders of the eager people. I knew what I would see before it even entered my line of sight.

"The Firebolt," I said reverently. "It was released over four years ago, but there still hasn't been a new broom to rival it. The handle is treated with a diamond hard polish, and it does nought to a hundred and fifty in ten seconds."

I very nearly drooled as I gazed longingly at the broomstick. I would have given my right arm to fly one. Fast cars and bikes held no comparison for me. When I finally forced myself to turn away, Edward and Jasper were staring at me oddly, their brows furrowed whilst their mouths twitched at the corners.

"What?" I asked nervously, my eyes flicking about our party.

"Nothing," replied Jasper, before he moved past me towards the door.

Edward smiled and, taking my hand, led me out into the cobbled street.

"So, what do you think?" I smiled, as we walked back in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

"This place is great," Edward said. "I can't believe you all manage to keep it a secret so well. I don't understand how you do it."

I shrugged, "I suppose that we just—"

"Bella!" a voice cried from a little way away.

I searched ahead and recognised Lavender Brown and the Patil twins running towards us.

"Hi!" Lavender squealed, her eyes flicking to Edward. "Oh my gosh, Bella, are you going back to Hogwarts too? I was so excited when I got the letter! When did yours come?"

"We didn't get owls. Professor McGonagall visited us."

"Us?"

"Um... yeah—she invited the Cullens too. Esme and Carlisle are going to be teaching Muggle Studies, you see."

The eyes of the girls flew to Carlisle, and their jaws dropped.

"Do any of you girls take Muggle Studies?" asked Esme.

The girls shook their heads, their eyes still glued to the golden haired doctor. Regret swept each of their expressions. Lavender's eyes snapped back to Edward. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, and gave what I'm sure was supposed to be an alluring pout. It annoyed me that she was being so obvious right in front of me. I stiffened and took a step closer to Edward. He wound an arm around me as he tried to suppress a smile. He was probably picking up my territorial irritation through his brother.

"What subjects will you be taking?" Lavender asked him.

"I'm not sure yet," he answered. "Definitely Potions and Herbology, and probably Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"You should consider Divination," said Parvati, who had taken to batting her eyelashes—she was doing it so much that anyone would have thought she had some dust or dirt stuck beneath her lids. "Firenze is an amazing teacher! Professor Trelawney is good too."

"I'll think about it," he nodded.

My stomach gave an embarrassing growl in the next moment. I suddenly realised just how hungry I was.

"We'll have to be on our way, now, girls," said Carlisle. "Bella hasn't eaten yet."

"Oh, sure. Well, err, we'll see you soon, then," smiled Padma. She grabbed the arms of Lavender and her sister and began towing them away. "Buy, Bella! Goodbye Professors!"

Esme waved, her face breaking into a huge smile. She really would be well suited to this job—she was so good with people—and if the reaction the girls had had to her husband were anything to go by, I was sure McGonagall's plan to fill the Muggle Studies classroom with eager boys and girls would succeed.

We continued on our path towards the Leaky Cauldron, then—towards home.

**This one took me a couple of days, so gimme a minute of your time and tell me what you think. Please review! Giggle. Thank you. And one more thing ... originally, APERM was going to be the **_**Society for the Protection of Equal Rights for Muggle-borns. **_**I'm sure you can understand why I had to change it. Lol.**


	5. Theory

**A/N: Back from London. Sorry about the delay. Here's the next chapter.**

"Let's go set it up," Emmett said, the minute we arrived back at the house.

"Where should we put it ..." asked Jasper, "in here, or outside?"

"Outside—you can't really call it camping if you're still in the house."

We followed the boys into the garden. They pulled the tent gently from the bag and crouched down on the grass, ready to commence their job of putting it up.

I coughed gently to get their attention, and they immediately turned their heads to look my way.

"May I?" I smiled, twiddling my wand with my fingers. Jasper and Emmett grinned and rose from the damp earth.

"Be our guest," said Jasper, slightly amused.

I swished my wand and called, _"Erecto."_

The flat patch of fabric instantly transformed into a perfectly shaped tent. My eyes weren't quick enough to catch the two brothers as they zoomed inside. I guess they were just like other boys when toys were involved. I was glad they were having fun.

"Are you coming in?" Edward asked.

"Actually," I replied, shaking my head, "I have some work to be getting on with."

"Work?"

"Yeah, I have a potion to concoct."

"What kind of potion?" he questioned suspiciously.

I tapped the side of my nose in response.

"Well ... if you won't tell me, will you at least allow me to watch ... or maybe even help?"

"Sure," I smiled. "I don't mind that, as long as you promise not to peek at the recipe. You might see more than I want you to, otherwise."

"OK," he agreed. "Where do you want to do it?"

"We could do it at my house, if you'd like. Charlie won't be around."

"How about you do it here, instead? You already have everything you need, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, then, we may as well stay. Would you like a sandwich? You must be starving."

"Yes, please," I nodded, my hands flying to my stomach. "I am kind of hungry."

We headed to the kitchen, where I sat on one of the stools by the island, whilst Edward prepared me something to eat. I was willing to make my own meal, but he had insisted that I let him do it. I listened to him speak whilst I ate, occasionally commenting on something he'd said, such as his subject choices for his year at Hogwarts.

"Those are good classes. I took Ancient Runes at O.W.L. level. It's really interesting."

"What about Arithmancy?"

"I don't know about that one from my own experience. I took Care of Magical Creatures for my second option, but Hermione Granger told me that she enjoyed it. Are you planning on taking a fifth subject?"

"I was wondering about History of Magic. Is that any good?"

"Well, the subject itself does have potential. The only problem is the teacher. Professor Binns isn't exactly what you'd call fun. He dictates notes from his book the entire lesson in the most boring fashion imaginable."

"And Divination ... is it as bad as McGonagall said?"

I bit my lip.

"I don't know. I didn't take Divination either. From what I've heard, Professor Trelawney is a little ... irrational. She thinks that the future can be seen through examining the dregs in a teacup. Firenze is supposed to be good, though. He uses astrology to predict large changes in the future."

"Maybe Astronomy," Edward mused, his turquoise eyes fixed on me as he smiled.

I couldn't decide which I preferred: gold or green. On the one hand, the gold eyes were a part of the man I had fallen in love with—I associated them with the happiness provoked by Edward's return from hunting, and I always experienced a slight sadness when the colour began to wane. The gold was like sand in an hourglass, counting down our time together. The green I saw now, on the other hand, was equally beautiful. It was striking against his alabaster skin, like green-blue gemstones in the snow.

"They're beautiful," I said, stroking the marble skin just beneath his eyes, the usual purple bruises now barely visible.

He smiled.

"Carlisle was right. I'd never noticed how closely they matched my mother's until I looked at them through the eyes of the others today."

His words confused me. His last memory of his mother had been a human one. How would he know?

"You remember them?"

His face suddenly turned serious at my question. He gave a deep sigh and then rose from the stool beside me.

"Before we start on your project, do you mind if we go to our meadow? There's something I want to tell you."

His words triggered a wave of concern, so I immediately flicked my wand and transferred the plate to the dishwasher, before holding out my hand for him to grasp. He took it hastily, allowing me to pull him into the pressure.

"What's wrong, Edward?" I asked the instant we appeared in the flowery meadow.

It was one of those rare days when the sun shone in Forks. The light reflected off of Edward's skin wonderfully as it always did, another reminder of how much we differed physically. The rainbows were beautiful, but sometimes I felt as if they were taunting me, silently screaming out how plain I was in comparison.

"Nothing is wrong," he answered, drawing a deep breath and pulling me down into the grass. He took my hands in his as he sat across from me. "I don't really know how to tell you. It's a little difficult to believe. Even I have trouble sometimes."

"Surely you realise by now that I'm convinced nothing is impossible."

"This is different, Bella."

I bit my lip and waited for him to continue.

"Do you remember what I told you about the Deathly Hallows?"

"Yes. Harry had them. The wand and the cape, right?"

"I don't know the full story," he admitted. "What I learnt about them came from Harry's mind when we were at Hogwarts, but the wand and the cape were only two parts of a trio of magical objects. Whoever could unite them was said to be the 'Master of Death. I suppose that made a fitting title for Harry, considering that he was able to come back.'"

"So, then, he found the third Hallow as well?"

Edward nodded.

"What was it?"

"A stone. Dumbledore bequeathed him it in his will. The stone ... brings people back from the dead."

...

I know it sounds crazy, Bella," he continued, his eyes bearing into mine whilst I stared at him incredulously, "but it's true. When Harry was walking to meet Voldemort, he used it to summon the spirits of his family. I saw it all through his mind. He dropped it in the forest when he reached the clearing."

Impossible. Edward had to be wrong. Nothing in the world was powerful enough to raise the dead ... But Edward had said he'd seen it happen. Either both he and Harry were wrong, or magic truly did have no boundaries. I felt my doubt ebbing.

"You're sure it was real?"

"Yes. I know because ... because I ..."

The understanding crashed into me with the force of a hurricane, sending my thoughts into a whirl of pandemonium.

"That's why you weren't there when I got back," I whispered. "You went looking for the stone."

"Yes," he said, confirming my sudden theory.

"And ... you used it." I felt my mouth go dry as I realised what he was about to tell me.

"Bella ... I saw her ... I saw my mother."

My heartbeat accelerated as I hung on his every word. His eyes seemed to lose focus, as if he was looking at something far off in the distance.

"She was beautiful, and exactly as I remembered her." His eyes sparkled as he recounted his tale. He told me that his time with her had reaffirmed his belief that there was an afterlife, and that wherever she had ended up, she was happy there. She was somewhere good.

"I know it was real," he murmured. "I've gone over it countless times in my head, and I'm sure that she knew you'd seen my soul during the Dementor attack."

"How can you be sure?"

"She had this knowing look when I told her I didn't think I had one—a Mona Lisa smile, I suppose you could call it. And then she said, 'It's a good thing you've found Bella. You might learn something.' I don't see what else she could have meant. After that, and what you showed me in the Pensieve ..." he took a deep breath, and a gentle smile appeared on his ethereal face, "I felt hope."

One single tear fell down my cheeks whilst I listened to Edward speak. He had thoroughly conveyed his happiness immediately after I had shown him the memory, but this was the first time we had properly discussed the matter of souls since, and it was certainly the first time we had done so intimately. I had waited far too long to hear those words from him.

He brought his face to mine to kiss away the drop of moisture, and I stayed perfectly still, closing my eyes and enjoying his feather light touch.

"I wish you could have seen her too," he said. "I wish she could have met you in person. She would have loved you."

"If she was anything like you, I would have loved her too."

"Maybe I'll introduce you someday."

I felt my brow crease from puzzlement.

"When we're one the other side. Everyone kept saying that not even vampires can live forever. I suppose they were right. And she said she'd been waiting for me. How bad could the afterlife really be if she turned out to be right?"

"Well," I laughed, "for once, maybe 'I told you so' isn't such a bad thing after all."

We both laughed then, and I didn't object as Edward scooped me into his lap.

"I want to try something," he said.

"What?" I questioned.

He didn't elaborate as I'd expected him to. His fingers caught a loose strand of my hair, and he tucked it gently back behind my ear. Then, slowly, he leaned in to kiss me. I responded welcomingly.

It was soft at first, like our usual ones, but, suddenly and without warning, it evolved into something fiery and unfamiliar. Edward's hands knotted through my hair, as mine did through his, and I shivered with pleasure as his tongue slid across my lower lip. Despite his freezing body temperature, I instantly felt very hot, caught up with excitement as Edward threw his caution and austere rules to the winds.

Any second now, he would pull away—this was too good to be allowed to continue—but he didn't. Impossibly, the kiss deepened, and I felt my heart banging against my ribcage as a result.

"What ... was that?" I asked breathlessly as Edward finally pulled away. "You've never kissed me like that before!"

"Well," he smiled playfully, clearly satisfied as he listened to my drumming heart, "I suppose I was taking advantage of the lack of venom. I figured I could afford to be reckless for once."

I laughed aloud at his reasoning.

"How reckless are you willing to be?" I asked, pushing my luck.

"Not _that _reckless," he chuckled. His eyes flew up to look at the sun. "I suppose we should be getting back if you want to start on this potion of yours."

I nodded in agreement, sliding myself out of Edward's lap. He rose sinuously to his feet in the next moment, before offering me his hand. I took it, allowing him to pull me up from the ground.

I apparated us back to the Cullens' kitchen, where I gathered my things whilst Edward went to retrieve my trunk. We walked up the stairs together at my slow human pace, eventually reaching the third floor.

"Aren't you even going to give me a clue as to what you're up to?" asked Edward.

"Nope," I smiled. "I'm not giving anything away, but I promise you you'll like it."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as we entered the Cullen library. I didn't visit this room very often, but I was well aware of its normal purpose: this was place the vampires engaged in their criminal activities, forging documents and who knew what else.

Edward led me past the rows of bookcases to the study section, which was dominated by a large oak table.

"Will this do?"

"Yes, this will be fine."

I opened my trunk and located my cauldron. Luckily, it wasn't buried too far beneath the surface. I pulled it out and rested it on the table. Then I emptied the bag containing the items I'd bought from the apothecary. Edward's nose wrinkled with distaste; it was a good job I had won the bet, or I'd never be able to get him to drink what I was planning for him.

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"You could chop the black beetles for me, if you'd like. I need them cutting like this." I did one first to demonstrate, cutting off the legs and head and moving them aside, before finally slicing the remains into strips. "The finer you can get them, the better. I need twenty of those doing."

Edward set to work immediately, whilst I cast a charm on the wooden table to protect it against the flame I was about to light beneath my cauldron. When that was done, I consulted Adamson's textbook and read through the recipe again, before I set about uncorking the four bottles of dragon's blood I had recently purchased.

"How much potion are you planning on making exactly?" Edward questioned. I think he was trying to fake indifference, but I wasn't fooled. He was always bubbling with curiosity; I heavily doubted that that would change anytime soon.

"Well, there's four litres of blood there. According to the book, that should give you each two servings."

"And you really think you'll be able to get them to take this stuff? I have to be honest, Bella, excluding the dragon's blood, these ingredients smell rancid."

"I'm sure they'll drink it once they've seen its effects."

I winked at him playfully. He smiled lightly in response, before his eyes returned to his task.

I carefully poured the blood into the cauldron, making sure not to spill a single drop.

"Bella?"

My head flicked to Edward's at the sound of his voice. His face held a quizzical expression as he gazed at the crimson liquid.

"Won't that end up congealing? It is blood, after all."

"The caldron's enchanted to stop that kind of thing from happening. If you buy them in a back alley or somewhere like that, they're generally of lower quality, but then you can always use vampire venom to stop the blood from thickening. Not many people are on friendly terms with vampires though, so it's not exactly easy to procure. It's better just to buy from a reliable source."

Edward finished the beetles, then, and asked if there was anything else I needed.

"I'm alright for the moment. There is something else you could do though." I nodded my head towards my purse. "There's a book in there that I bought today. It's called _Theories of Origin_. I don't know whether it will be any good, but I thought I'd get it for you, just in case."

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead, before retrieving my purse and sticking his arm in to search for the text. Without the use of my wand, it would have taken me a considerable amount of time to locate the Flourish & Blotts bag; Edward didn't seem to have any trouble, though, and in less than half a minute, he was already immersed in Harker's book.

"Anything interesting?" I asked after fifteen minutes of silence.

"Actually, there is," he smiled, his eyes never leaving the page. "There's a collection of stories here that different wizarding cultures use to explain the birth of the vampire race. This one, apparently, is the most popular theory in America and Europe: listen.

"_It may be possible that the answer to the origin of the vampire lies in the blood of wizards and witches. Although this may not be the case, it would certainly go some way in explaining why vampire venom often gives a bitten Muggle powerful, magical abilities. This particular theory is supported by the tale of Lilith, which has remained popular in western countries for centuries._

"_Whilst the story gives little clues as to the exact location of the event, it does indicate that the place was a lush paradise. Also, there is some evidence to suggest a hot climate, as the people that dwelt there were said to wander naked amongst the animals they lived alongside. The community was said to have been formed mostly by Muggles, but there were also a number of wizarding settlements nearby._

"_According to legend, the birth of the vampire came about when the two collided. A young witch named Lilith, who often crossed the boundaries which separated the magical and non-magical, one day spied a handsome Muggle who happened to be bathing alone in the middle of a fresh glade. In her eagerness to see the man again, she returned each day to the very same spot to wait for him, and each day he would arrive to wash. The longer Lilith watched him, the deeper in love she fell, until her affections evolved into pure obsession. Finally, when she could no longer bear the separation, she revealed herself to the man in the hope that he would reciprocate her love. He did not, however, because he was already lovesick for another and, instead, he scorned the witch and sent her away. Lilith, in her desperation, mixed an excessive amount of extremely potent love potion. It is believed by some that this was actually the first batch of Armortentia in history to be brewed. Whether that is the case or not is unknown, but the next stage of the tale certainly indicates the dangers of obsessive love and the various methods of attaining it._

"_Lilith poured the potion into the pool where she had so frequently perceived the man, and waited for him to arrive. The wonderfully alluring scent of the potion, however, carried on the wind and attracted all manner of creatures. Snakes slithered out from their nests to taste the sweet-smelling liquid, as did the scorpions, the lizards, the spiders, and the insects. The second they drank from the pool, they were overcome with the sickness of infatuation, and began to seek out the girl that had so foolishly dared to manipulate nature. Lilith tried to outrun the danger and failed, for she was being hunted by something more frightening than any species belonging to the non-magical wildlife. A colossal acromantula had also been tempted by Lilith's potion, and raced through the trees to find her. Blinded by obsession, the other creatures did not flea the gigantic foe. They latched onto the girl in any way they could: some coiled their way around her body; others drove their venomous fangs into her flesh. The acromantula fought to free her, but too many poisons had already entered her bloodstream, and she writhed in agony on the flowery earth, every moment slipping closer to death._

"_When it finally seemed as if the arachnid would prove the victor, one more terrible enemy slithered out from between the trees: a monstrous, deadly basilisk. In its desire to preserve the girl, the snake resolved not to open its eyes, too afraid to do so. It attacked the acromantula, but was severely disadvantaged by its lack of sight. But the fear of losing Lilith to its foe drove the basilisk to an act of madness: like the smaller animals that had swarmed over the witch, it sunk its fangs into her body to keep her close. The acromantula, too, sliced its pincers through the girl's soft skin, and the two began a horrific tug of war, very nearly tearing their mutual love in half._

"_Though she was teetering on the boundaries of life and death, so close to falling over the edge, she let out one final, haunting scream, injecting every ounce of agony she had experienced into the sound. The acromantula, basilisk, and other creatures immediately released her, horrified by the pain which they had collectively inflicted, and, instead, began battling amongst themselves, leaving Lilith to suffer the anguish of a hundred burning poisons alone._

"_After separating from Lilith, the basilisk no longer feared to open its eyes. It unleashed its fatal yellow glare upon the unfortunate creatures, immediately killing every single one of them. With no more competitors for the witch's heart, the serpent returned to Lilith, blind once more. Impossibly, her heart continued to pump, forcing the cocktail of venom through her veins. Although each poison would have undoubtedly ended the girl if she had received them singularly, together they formed a new species of venom, one which burnt like liquid fire in every sinew of tissue, crystallising the muscle and bone until they became something harder than diamond or dragon skin._

"_The basilisk laid alongside the witch for three days in the hope that the warmth and colour would return to her skin. Finally, however, her heart fell silent, sending the basilisk into an instant fit of rage and despair. It flung open its eyes, expecting to see a lifeless body; instead, it saw a pair of brilliant red eyes, more terrifying and sinister than its own. Lilith, though irrevocably changed—more beautiful than ever with her angular features and alabaster skin—was stood staring back into the face of the serpent, perfectly unaffected by its deadly gaze. Because her body was already frozen in time, it could not even be petrified. In the very next second, her icy hands shot through the scaly flesh of the snake, and curled around its thudding heart. The basilisk fell dead, and the newborn left its body as she set off in search of the man she blamed for her terrible transformation._

"_When she finally found the Muggle, he was wrapped in the arms of a stranger woman. The pair saw the beauty of Lilith, and for the first time in their lives, they were ashamed of their nakedness. The vampire's love for the man had morphed into something stronger than hatred, and because of that, she laid a powerful curse upon him and his descendents, proclaiming that she and every child of her line would spend eternity drinking the blood of men, consuming that which would sing to them. As further punishment, Lilith slaughtered the entire Muggle community, leaving only the man and woman alive. _

"_In fear of Lilith, the two fled into the wilderness, plagued by nightmares of death and murder. Years passed, and it finally seemed to the two that they had escaped the horror. Their peace could not last, though. Lilith returned into their lives to terrorise them once again, and when she did she saw that the female had borne the man two sons. The immortal stole one of them away and injected the poison of nature into his veins. When his heart was as silent as Lilith's, she released him upon his brother, and revelled as her curse forced him to drink the blood of the innocent lamb. The two left the devastated mother and father behind as they travelled the earth, fulfilling Lilith's promise and drinking the blood of men._

"_It is a popular belief the curse of the vampire has strengthened with time, and that the call of blood experienced by those who are transformed is the direct result of Lilith's eternal hatred. Whether this is true or not cannot be known for sure; however, the tale of the girl that was filled with a hundred poisons would certainly go some way in explaining the horrific agony of the vampire's kiss."_

Edward finished reading aloud and looked up from the text.

"That's not a particularly nice story," he said. "I wonder whether or not it's true. It sounds a little farfetched to me."

"Says the vampire," I smirked.

He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the book whilst I continued to work.

Just under an hour later, I finished adding the last ingredient. The potion had turned a sickly shade of puce, which, according to the instructions, was a good thing.

"How does it smell to you now?" I asked.

"Better—the smell of everything else is masked by the blood. I still remember what you put in there though." Edward took a long, deep breath, and resolve seemed to sweep his face. He stood and walked towards me. "When do you want to do this then?"

"You're safe for now," I chuckled. "The potion needs to rest a day for it to work properly."

I began loading the liquid back into bottles. In exactly twenty four hours, the colour would darken to deep violet, and then it would be ready for consumption. Edward helped me clean up, wiping down the table whilst I returned my things back to my trunk. We each tucked two bottles under our arms, and headed downstairs to meet others.

None of them had left the tent yet. They probably wouldn't for a while. Carlisle was sat in the main area when we entered, and was reading a book entitled _Ailments and Antidotes._

"Rosalie and Alice are in the dressing room," he told us. "Esme and the boys are somewhere upstairs. They're probably still trying to decide what to do with the spare room."

"They are," said Edward. "Jasper and Emmett are pushing for a games room, but Esme is suggesting that we use it as a study, considering the fact that it's soundproof."

"Personally," said Carlisle, "I'm with Esme."

The evening in the tent was an enjoyable, light-hearted one, where the most serious event was a trivial debate over who got which room. That in itself was a little absurd, considering that they were all practically the same.

It was six o'clock when I eventually announced that I needed to depart. Charlie was due to be getting home, and I didn't want to arrive back too long after him. I certainly didn't want to give him another reason to get angry.

Edward drove me home. As predicted, Charlie's cruiser was parked in the driveway when we arrived. He greeted Edward in the usual manner, before returning to the lounge to watch the game. Edward kept me company whilst I prepared that night's meal—smoked salmon and potatoes.

When the time finally came for him to leave, I rushed upstairs to take a quick shower, knowing that I didn't have long until he returned. I was absolutely exhausted from the day's events, and it felt like an age since I had been curled up beneath the golden comforter in his bedroom. I heavily doubted that I would be able to keep my eyes open for long tonight.

The warm water felt wonderful as it loosened my muscles. I must have been standing there for, at least, half an hour. I felt completely and utterly relaxed as I shut off the shower. That changed the second I pulled back the curtain.

I screamed in surprise, my sudden movement causing my feet to slide over the wet surface of the tub. I clutched the curtain in an attempt to regain my balance, but it couldn't take my weight and, subsequently, came falling down on top of me as I fell. I groaned as my thighs connected with the hard surface—there was no way that that wouldn't leave a nasty bruise.

"Bella," Charlie called from the hallway, his voice slightly panicky, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I answered hastily. "I just ... err ... saw a big spider."

"I heard a bang."

"Yeah, I slipped—that's all."

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, no! I'm fine, Dad."

"Ok."

I listened as his footsteps receded down the corridor, before immediately turning to the offending screech owl that was perched on the edge of the sink.

"What are you doing in my bathroom?" I demanded, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around my body."

The owl hooted and lifted its leg, to which was attached a thick, white envelope, with the official seal of the British Ministry of Magic.

Edward was probably waiting for me in my room; I guess that was why the deliverer had not wished to venture there.

"Well, thank you for the letter. I'm sorry, but I don't have any mice or anything." I couldn't really keep the usual treats in the house—the smell would have been impossible to hide from Edward, and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. I didn't really have a need for them, anyway; Talto enjoyed hunting too much—he preferred his food when it was fresh.

The owl hooted once more, before launching itself out through the window.

I towelled myself dry and dressed quickly, before fixing the curtain with my wand. Then, when I could no longer contain my curiosity, I snatched up the envelope and ripped it open, speedily extracting and unfolding the letter.

_Dear Messrs Cullen and Hale; Mrs Cullen; and Misses Cullen, Hale and Swan:_

_On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I would like to thank you for your contribution during the Battle of Hogwarts. In order to show its appreciation, the Ministry has succeeded in securing for you executive seats at the final of the Quidditch World Cup, which is due to take place in Australia on the Saturday 3__rd__ August._

_Please find enclosed eight tickets and one portkey. The portkey is set to transport you to the meeting point at precisely twelve o'clock Australian eastern standard time, on the day of the final._

_I hope to see you there, and wish you every success for the future._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Agono Joybelle_

_Head of Department of Games and Sports._

Sure enough, when I checked the additional items located in the envelope, I found that there were, in fact, eight tickets for the Quidditch final. I'd completely forgotten that it had been four years since the Irish had won the cup. I didn't even know the teams that were still in the competition. My heart broke into a sprint as I imagined attending the game. The only ones I had ever been to see were those held at Hogwarts; I was practically ecstatic at the idea of going to Australia to see who would take the title next.

I pulled out the last item; it was a folded table cloth. It must have been charmed to fit inside the envelope.

This was perfect! Better than perfect! A trip to Australia would fit in seamlessly with what I had originally planned for the Cullens. We already had everything we needed: a week's worth of potion and a fold up house. We were all set!

I slid the papers and the portkey back inside the envelope, before returning to my room where Edward was waiting for me. The second I had closed the door, he had me locked in a gentle embrace. He pulled back quickly to inspect me.

"Are you alright, Bella?" he asked worriedly. "I heard you fall."

"I'm alright—just a little bruised."

"It wasn't Talto in there, was it? The scent is slightly different."

"No, it was an owl from the Ministry."

"The Ministry?" Edward pressed, his brow furrowing in concern. "What do they want?"

"Don't worry," I smiled, "it's nothing bad. Actually, it's really really good."

I was far too excited to keep this to myself, so I handed him the letter and allowed him to read it. His eyes had only been focused on the page for a second before an incredible smile swept across his face.

"We're going to Australia?"

"Yes!" I squealed, throwing myself into his arms. I don't think it was loud enough that Charlie would have heard.

Edward raised me into the air and twirled on the spot, clearly as excited by the prospect as I was. Then he lowered me down until my head was just above his, and kissed me happily. He carried me over to the bed and laid me down, before he took his place beside me.

"Next week can't come fast enough," I said, closing the small gap that separated us.

He nodded in agreement, his eyes staring off into space. He was probably imagining, as I was, all the fun we would have on August 3rd. Just over half an hour ago I had thought that I would have no problems getting to sleep tonight. I couldn't have been more wrong.

**A/N: Although I did make up Lilith's story myself, I did take her from somewhere else. Most of you have probably heard of her, but feel free to look her up. Giggle. Please comment—I **_**really**_** would like to know what you think of this particular idea.**


	6. Prep Work

**A/N: Two things to say: 1) I thought I'd fill you all in on Lilith. She was actually supposed to be the first wife of Adam. Yup ... turns out that Eve didn't come first. I'm more of a Big Bang fan myself, but I was pretty interested by the way she's hardly mentioned anymore. According to Hebrew beliefs, she left Adam because he refused to treat her as an equal. I know this will sound ridiculous, but the idea is that he wouldn't let her go on top during ... well you get the idea. So she flew away and instead started mating with demons and having hundreds of little demonic babies. Three angels went to retrieve her, but she refused to return, so they said they would keep killing her kiddies until she did. She promised that she would repay the favour to Adam's sons, and so she was said to steal into nurseries to drain the blood of babies. Basically, she was supposed to be the original succubus / vampire. There are other stories too, but I can't list them all. I hope you found that interesting. 2) For any of you that have read my reviews recently, there's one on there that is written under my name. Unfortunately, due to the fact that I accidentally spilt milk on my laptop, I have been forced to share with my sister. She sent me a review, but forgot to log out of my account. I can't delete it, but I just wanted you guys to know that I'm not so crazy / egotistical that I review my own work. Haha.**

**Enjoy the next chapter.**

I had made Edward promise that he wouldn't tell the others about the Quidditch World Cup without me. I wanted to be there.

I spent the next couple of days considering the things we would need for our visit to Australia, but if I was being honest, I really needed Alice—she was the expert on clothes, and I had promised her that I would give her the opportunity to use me as her guinea pig. At least everyone else would have to suffer along with me if I let her in on the plan. So that's what I decided to do.

It was half eight in the morning, precisely one week before the Quidditch final, when I apparated over to the Cullens' house to ask the pixie for help. Edward had left to go hunting with the boys only a few hours before, and wasn't due back for another two days. Alice was sprawled out on one of the white sofas in the lounge when I arrived, and was reading through a book on Arithmancy. I guess she was trying to catch up on the four years worth of lessons that she had missed.

"Bella!" she cried cheerfully, the second she heard the pop. She jumped up from the couch and skipped over to me. "I'm glad you're here. I think it's about time we had our fun, don't you?"

"Actually, Alice, before you start on that, there's something I want to tell you. You see ... I kind of need your help."

"What is it, Bella?" she asked, her voice loaded with concern. It was strange hearing her speak that way; she was usually so calm and collected. I guess that was what you got when you could so easily manipulate the future. Obviously I knew that she did, but until now, I had never realised the extent to which Alice relied on her visions. Without them, she fretted just like any other person would. "Are you alright? Is there something wrong?"

"No, of course not. It's just ... I'm not very good when it comes to planning certain ... events and, well, I know that you are, so I was wondering whether you'd mind if I let you in on the surprise?"

Her lips instantly spread to reveal two rows of brilliant, white teeth, whilst she dove forwards and flung her arms around my neck.

"Thank you so much, Bella! You don't know how much this has been killing me! Of course, I'll help you! I'm just so glad you're finally asking me for something like this. I thought you never would." She pulled back and bounced twice on her toes. "Maybe there's hope for you, after all."

"Cut the digs," I said jokingly, before holding out my hand for her to take. "Let's go. You should probably look somewhere where the others won't be able to hear you."

She grasped my hand without complaint, and we rocketed into the blackness. It lasted longer than usual this time, and it felt as if my eyeballs would squish against the back of my skull as we travelled to our destination. Finally, the discomfort ended, and I was standing about ten feet from the edge of a gigantic cliff face, overlooking a dark forest that stretched far into the distance, meeting dozens of surrounding hills, beyond which was an incredible snow-capped mountain.

"Where are we?" Alice breathed, her eyes sweeping the landscape.

"Oregon," I answered, lowering myself to the ground and crossing my legs.

Alice laughed and sat beside me, before she asked, "Why Oregon?"

"Why not?" I shrugged.

"Fair point," she said, though her expression never lost its hint of curiosity.

I sighed and turned my eyes back to the mountain on the horizon.

"When you guys left last year, I started apparating a little more often. Sometimes I just needed to escape Forks, so I'd move from State to State, finding different places to clear my head. This was one of my favourites. It was close enough that I only needed to make one jump; plus, it's beautiful."

"It is," she agreed softly. There was a slight pause then, as if she wanted to continue, but wasn't sure whether she should. I suppose her intrigue won out because, in my periphery, I saw her turn her head, and she asked, "Where else did you travel to?"

I smiled.

"All over the place really. Some days I'd stick to the neighbouring States; other days I'd keep jumping until I was on the other end of the country. One of my favourite places was the Teton National Park in Wyoming. I used to watch the sun setting behind the mountains. There's this great winding river there. The light reflected off it in the most incredible way, and the sky always used to look like it was on fire. It was striking.

"Once, I even jumped all the way to Florida."

"To see your mother?"

"Actually," I answered, unable to hide my embarrassment as the colour filled my cheeks, "I kind of snuck in to the Magic Kingdom in Orlando to watch the fireworks. I was bored."

Alice broke into a fit of giggles. When she finally managed to regain some measure of control, she looked at me incredulously.

"Are you pulling my leg, Bella?"

"No."

"Ha!" she laughed hysterically. "That's brilliant! I can't believe you never told me that. It's a good job Emmett doesn't know. He'd never let you live it down if he did."

"Hey," I said, a little annoyed, "they were nice! The music was a little much, granted, but it still gave me something to do."

"Did you meet Mickey?" she said teasingly, her mouth twitching at the corners.

"I did not."

"What a shame."

"Not really—I prefer Donald."

"No surprise there."

"What's that supposed to me?" I asked in a huff.

"You both grumble a lot."

"I don't grumble."

"Yes you do," she argued.

I stuck my tongue out at her in response. She gave a brief chuckle before changing the subject.

"So, you said I was allowed to look?"

"Yes, but there's a condition. You're not allowed to look further than the second day in August." I didn't mind her knowing about the Quidditch match, but I didn't want her to see the final result.

"Anything else?"

"Nope," I answered, shaking my head, "that's it."

In the next moment, Alice's expression became vacant, her eyes turning glassy as she peered beyond the physical and into the future. I fixed my gaze on the centre of the valley basin, bracing myself for the vampire-pixie's reaction. Mist hovered just below the treetops and around the base of the rocky hills, adding a wonderful mystical element to the landscape. It looked like something out of a fairytale.

A high musical squeal to my right suddenly broke through my reverie. In one swift movement, Alice leapt to her feet and began springing on the spot, clapping her hands all the while.

"I can't believe it! I can't believe that this is even possible!"

I assumed from her statement that she was referring to the potion and its effects.

_Good. That must mean it will work._

"Thank you so much, Bella!"

She flashed towards me and effortlessly pulled me up from the rocky earth, her arms ensnaring my body as she encased me in a bone crushing hug.

"You're welcome," I said sincerely when I could breathe again. "It's a relief to finally be able to do something for you for a change. It always seems to be the other way round."

Alice paused and regarded me thoughtfully before continuing.

"Bella," she said gently, "I don't think you realise just how important you are to the family. Just having you with us ... that alone is enough. But the extras—everything else you've brought with you—you can't imagine how much it will mean to them ... how much it means to me.

"You're like ... no, you _are _a sister to me, Bella. Two extra pairs of chromosomes won't ever affect that."

I slid my warm fingers through Alice's cold ones. Despite the occasional irritation she caused me, I could never have asked for a better sister or friend. As far as I was concerned, genes were irrelevant. I'd heard far too often of families that had shattered into fragments over the silliest of matters. It reinforced my belief that there were stronger glues in this world than blood and DNA.

I smiled at Alice, and she smiled back at me.

"Are you ready to go back?" she asked. "We have a lot to do."

"Sure," I said, taking one last look at the valley before I disapparated.

And then it began.

Alice and I took the Porsche to Seattle where I was forced to spend an entire five hours shopping for various items of clothing. A shopping trip hadn't been mentioned in the deal, but when I tried to point that out to Alice she simply muttered something about 'technicalities' that I didn't quite catch. I figured it was pointless to argue. We bought everything from summer dresses to swimwear.

My legs almost gave out at one point when I saw the bikini Alice was planning to get me into.

"Alice! That will hardly cover anything. You might as well ask me wear a fig leaf!"

"Bella, this is a standard two-piece," she argued. "Nobody else has a problem with them; I don't see why you should either. Were you planning on wearing a habit or something?"

"Actually," I answered testily, "I was thinking more along the lines of a one-piece."

She rolled her eyes and threw the midnight blue bikini into her shopping basket.

"You need to stop being so self-conscious, Bella," she chided.

"Easy for you to say."

"A compromise, then?" she asked, picking another suit from the collection she had been inspecting. It was one of those strange hybrids that fit into neither category of one-piece or two-piece, where the top and bottom were connected by a strip of material. There was a silver hoop near the top of the strip, which linked the two halves. "How about I start you off on this, and end you on the bikini? We can slot a tankini somewhere in the middle."

"I don't think that that thing in your hand counts as a one-piece, Alice. Half of it's missing!"

"It's my final offer," she said impatiently. "Take it or leave it."

"Let me start on the tankini and you have a deal," I huffed.

"Done."

_Bella, you idiot._

I sighed heavily. I should have known better than to surrender myself to Alice in this way. It was my own fault.

The day passed exceedingly slowly, but, finally, I made it home. I phoned my mom as soon as I made it to my room to tell her all about the Quidditch World Cup. I also had another reason to call her—I needed someone to cover for me. Alice and I had discussed it on our way back to Forks, and we had both decided that it would be best if my mom phoned Charlie and told him that she and Edward were planning a surprise trip for me to go and see her. Alice had already looked and had said that Charlie wouldn't protest. Renee was my mother, after all.

The very minute after I had flipped my cell shut, I heard the house phone ringing from downstairs. Naturally, Charlie never mentioned my supposed trip to Florida—that would have been spoiling the surprise. I suppose he was scared of incurring the wrath of Renee.

I decided to get an early night. I'd been kept up the previous day by the initial excitement. Luckily, however, the shopping spree with Alice had wiped me out, so I fell into a slumber the second my head hit the pillow.

The night was almost dreamless. The only one I could remember was that which had caused me to start awake at seven in the morning. In my dream—or nightmare, more like—I had be strolling along a deserted beach. The sun was shining overhead, causing the azure waves to sparkle in the light. Then, as I looked out to sea, seven heartbreakingly beautiful faces broke the surface, their bodies rising slowly out of the water as they approached me. Edward led them, and in my happiness at seeing him I ran forwards, ready to jump into his arms. He recoiled, though, and looked at me as if I was something disgusting, like the kind of thing you didn't want to find beneath your shoe. As I looked on, hurt, they all suddenly burst out laughing. I followed their eyes, and saw that the only thing concealing my modesty was a fig leaf. Then the Cullens evaporated into nothing.

That was when I had woken up. Clearly, my subconscious hadn't been so willing to let go of the anxieties brought about by the scary bathing suits, and I didn't want to have the same constant worries and insecurities ruining my holiday. The only way to ensure my sanity, it seemed, was to refuse point blank to wear anything other than a full one-piece.

I hastily ate my bowl of cereal and ran back upstairs to brush my teeth and dress. I slid on a simple white cotton t-shirt and a pair of jeans, before I apparated to the Cullen house once again.

"Alice?" I called.

"It's no use, Bella," she said walking gracefully down the stairs. "You're wearing the suit whether you like it or not."

"But it will make me feel extremely uncomfortable. I even had a—"

"Nightmare. I know," she finish. She sighed and shook her head, her expression exasperated. "What exactly is it you're afraid of, Bella?"

I figured I may as well be honest with her. It was pointless trying to avoid the issue.

"It's ... Edward," I admitted, feeling the heat immediately rush to my face. "What if he doesn't ... like me?"

"Is that it?" she asked. "That's what you've been worrying about?"

I nodded.

"Bella, that's ridiculous. If you're like this now, how do you expect to go on when you're married?" She had me there. I wouldn't even be able to hide behind a fig leaf when that day came. Edward and I had decided to hold off on that for the moment, at least while we were both at Hogwarts. It seemed silly getting married now when I'd be spending the nights of the next year away from him. I'd only agreed to go through with it for that one reason, after all.

Alice smiled kindly then, and the next time she spoke, her voice matched her expression. "You don't give yourself enough credit; even so, you shouldn't doubt the strength of Edward's affections."

"I don't doubt those."

"Nor should you disregard the fact that he is permanently frozen in the body of a teenager—a male teenager at that. I know he's a gentleman, Bella, but trust me—you have absolutely nothing to worry about in _that_ department."

"Are you sure?" I asked, a little unconvinced.

"I'm a psychic, aren't I?" she laughed. "He won't be able to take his eyes off you—I guarantee it—especially if the suit you wear first is the one I told you you should."

"The hybrid?"

"Yup."

I bit my lip.

"Some trust, please, Bella?"

"Fine," I said, giving up.

She clapped her hands happily, satisfied by her victory.

"So what do you want to do today?" she asked.

"Have you already finished organising everything?" I questioned, knowing I shouldn't really be surprised. We were setting off tonight, after all.

Alice rolled her eyes, as if this should be obvious.

"The boys will be setting back from Mount Rainier in an hour or so. What should we do until then?"

I sighed. I didn't particularly want to wait that long to see Edward. Any amount of time spent away from him was difficult, however short. I couldn't wait for him to fly back to me.

And, then, an idea hit. I felt my jaw very slowly inch open, before it spread into a gradual smile.

"Alice," I said, "how would you like to see Jasper a little ahead of time?"

She looked at me in confusion, before allowing her eyes to glaze over. The second the life returned to them, she grinned at me, and we both set off pelting up to Edward's room—the place that I had been storing my school things for the past week. I ran over to my Cleansweep, whilst Alice waited at the door. Then, we ran, completely overwhelmed by excitement, back down the stairs and out into the back yard.

We crouched over the broom and Alice wrapped her arms around my waist. The next thing I knew, we were off, accelerating into the sky over the green of Forks. Alice was giggling uncontrollably as she pointed me in the right direction.

I pushed the broom further up through the low laying clouds, to protect us against the eyes of nearby Muggles.

"There won't be anyone around now for another ten minutes," Alice informed me after a quarter of an hour spent in the large, fluffy, white things.

I grinned and leaned forwards, gripping the broom tighter to push it to its highest speed, and cried "Hold on tight then!"

We rocketed downwards with incredible velocity, breaking clear of the mist. The first thing I saw was a vast lake beginning about two hundred metres ahead. I plummeted towards it, diving as if I was a seeker having caught sight of a snitch hovering near to the ground. We swept over the lake, reaching probably about a hundred and twenty miles per hour, close enough to touch the calm, watery surface.

"This is amazing!" Alice shouted joyously. "I can't wait to see their faces! It's going to be classic!"

"That's what we're going for," I laughed, shooting back up, following the level of the land as the tree covered hills grew taller and taller.

"We're almost there," Alice said finally. "They've just finished hunting. They're getting ready to set off back. Keep going and we can come up behind them."

"Alright; tell me when to turn."

The trees were really dense here below us, so the vampires probably wouldn't see us unless we ducked below the canopy.

"Now!" Alice whispered.

I immediately leaned to the right, causing the broom to shoot in a wide u-turn. Then I pressed down on the handle, and smiled widely, completely exhilarated as we shot through a gap in the leafy blanket. I zipped this way and that, avoiding the oncoming trunks and branches. I caught a flash of blue somewhere up ahead. After a few seconds, I spotted other colours too—colours that were definitely out of place amongst the monotonous shades of the the next moment, the trees began to thin, and suddenly I could see all the Cullen boys sprinting up ahead.

Alice had obviously seen my intentions in one of her visions because she began whooping in the very same second as I did. The boys turned so quickly that my eyes couldn't catch it. All I knew is that their faces were each worth a thousand words—eyes wide like golf balls, and jaws hanging low. We zoomed passed them in a flash, the entire thing a blur to my eyes.

I discerned Emmett's booming laughter over the whooshing in my ears, and Jasper's voice as he wondered aloud at how I was managing to dodge the trees so easily.

When my eyes flicked to the side, I saw that Edward had resumed his sprint and was running beside me, his lips spreading into a breathtaking smile.

"This is my stop!" Alice cried. She swung her legs over the edge and slid off the broom.

I shot forwards, leaning slightly to the left so that I was flying directly in front of Edward. I lowered the broom even closer to the ground, and looked quickly over my shoulder.

"Get on," I commanded with a smile, feeling like some kind of crazy biker trying to pick up an innocent target.

Edward ran up behind me, easily slipping onto the back, and circled his arms around my waist, kissing me on the cheek as he did so. We blasted upwards through the canopy, soaring back towards the lake. When we had gained enough altitude, I sent us plummeting downwards. The entire thing was like one long rollercoaster ride, and the adrenaline was doubled because I was with Edward.

The others couldn't keep up with us, not because they couldn't travel as quickly as my Cleansweep—on the contrary, they would have outstripped it easily in a race—but they had to go around a few very sizeable obstacles, whereas I could just zoom over them.

"You really do compensate in the air," Edward said in my ear, incredulously. "I never would have believed it."

"It's been too long since I practiced. I'm going to have to do this more often if I'm going to make the house team this year," I explained.

"You're going to try out?"

"Yep. Quidditch is the best."

"I can't wait to see that," he admitted.

I smiled and pushed the broom on faster.

We touched down in the Cullen's back garden at least five minutes before we saw the others leaping over the river towards us.

"That was sweet, Bella," Emmett said, his eyes on my broomstick. "I get dibs on next ride! Fancy taking me up?"

"Sure," I smiled, "or I could just teach you how to do it yourself? It will go faster if you're alone."

I probably should have rethought what I was going to say before I said it, because, somehow, I managed to lose my entire afternoon to instructing the family on how to handle a broomstick. It didn't take them long to pick it up, but they all wanted to have a go, including Carlisle and Esme. I didn't mind, of course, but it would have been nice to enjoy some time alone with Edward before Alice and I sprung the news that we were heading off to Australia that night.

Finally, twilight arrived, and Edward offered to take me home.

"Actually, Edward, she's not going home," said Alice, who came to stand alongside me.

"She's not?"

"Nope."

"Are you taking her hostage again, Alice?" Emmett sniggered.

"Nope, she's not staying here either."

"Well, then, where _is _shegoing?"

"Australia," I said matter-of-factly, taking out my wand and pointing it at the tent, which instantly collapsed and folded itself neatly, before flying through the air into my waiting hands.

"It's not for another five days yet, though, Bella," said Edward, clearly confused.

"What's not for another five days?" asked Rosalie.

"Why is she talking about going to Australia, Alice?" Jasper questioned, turning to his wife, who was wearing a mischievous smile.

Alice didn't respond; instead, she waited for me to pull the Ministry envelope from my pocket and take out the letter. I opened it up and held it up in front of me, knowing that each vampire would be able to read the small, elegant script from where they stood.

There was one brief moment of silence, the wave of exhilaration and delight suspended, before the Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper crashed about me, each of them demanding further information.

"Are you serious? We're going to watch Quidditch?" asked Emmett.

"And we get executive seats?" said Rosalie.

"You knew about this, Edward?" Jasper questioned.

"I found out a couple of days ago," he answered. "Apparently, so did Alice."

"And I didn't find out until after you went hunting, so you're not allowed to complain."

Jasper grinned madly, whilst Emmett ran about the garden waving his hands in the air as he jumped around like an idiot. He seemed so happy that I half expected him to start dancing. Luckily, I was spared from that sight, but I was subjected to a bear-hug which almost crushed my ribcage and internal organs.

"Emmett ... can't ... breathe!"

"Oh, sorry," he said, placing me back on my feet.

"So, why are you talking about going to Australia now if the match isn't until the third?" Carlisle asked.

Alice came rushing out of the house, then, carrying four bottles of potion, two glasses, and a pillow.

"There's no need to worry about the hospital, Carlisle," she said suddenly. "I already called them. I told them you have a stomach bug and won't be in for the rest of the week."

"What? Why would you do that? I don't understand."

"Alice, would you please explain what's going on?" Edward requested, his brow creasing in frustration.

_"Portus,"_ I said, flicking my wand at the pillow after Alice had laid it on the ground.

She uncorked one of the bottles and began pouring the violet liquid into two glasses. Next, she offered one of the servings to Edward, who took it gingerly, whilst she kept the other for herself.

"You know what this does, don't you? That's why you've been singing the lyrics to country music backwards all afternoon."

"Well done. Now, are you going to drink the potion or what, Edward?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

His golden eyes narrowed and flicked to mine. I smiled encouragingly, hoping that my expression would communicate the fact that he had nothing to worry about. He should have realised that anyway—if Alice was willing to knock back a glass, no one should feel the reluctance to copy. Besides, if Edward had won the bet, he would have used his victory to buy me a new car; he wanted to give me things that he thought would be of some use, so I wasn't about to repay him by feeding him something that would cause him to grow an extra head.

His face lost its look of unease and he quickly relaxed, assuming a more comfortable expression. Then he raised his glass to Alice, who clinked hers against his, before they both lifted the potion to their lips and swallowed. Neither gave particularly strong reactions: they patted their chests as they had in the Leaky Cauldron when they had first tasted the dragon's blood. I suppose that was only to be expected considering that it was the main ingredient.

Edward looked down at his body, clearly expecting something to happen. When it didn't, his eyes searched for mine.

"I don't think your potion was successful. I feel no different."

"Of course you don't," I smiled. "You're not supposed to."

"So ... what exactly was the point then?" asked Rosalie, just as confused as the others.

"You'll figure it out soon," Alice smiled as she packed the bottles, glasses and tent into a duffle bag. "The portkey is leaving in exactly thirty seconds."

"Where's the rest of the stuff, Alice?" I asked as I touched my index finger to the pillowcase, confused by our lack of luggage.

"It's all in the tent," she explained. "I put it all away last night."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" demanded Rosalie

"You'll find out soon enough. Touch the portkey!"

The Cullens quickly obeyed the psychic vampire, and waited for the hooking sensation to pull us into the swirl of colour. The pillow began to glow slightly, and then we were soaring into the dizzying rainbow, spinning madly as if caught up in a powerful twister, until we eventually crashed into the dusty earth.

I pulled myself to my feet to observe my surroundings. We were stood at the top of a tree covered slope, shaded by the overhanging branches of the plant life. The trees certainly weren't dense enough that they completely sheltered the hill from the rays of the sun though, and I could easily see the bright blue of the sky above me.

"Alice, there are humans nearby. This isn't exactly your best idea. It's midday for god's sake!" Edward complained.

His sister ignored him, pulling the tent from the bag and laying it out on the ground, whilst I moved in a circle around the outside of our area, waving my wand in complicated motions and casting the necessary spells.

"All done?" asked Alice.

"Yep, they won't come inside the perimeter; nor will anyone be able to see us from the outside."

"That's alright. We won't have any problems finding our way back."

Of course not. Any one of the vampires would easily be able to find their way back to the site, simply by following the trail left by our scents. I, on the other hand, would require assistance.

"Would someone please tell us what the hell we're doing here? In fact, would someone please tell us where _here _is?" Rosalie shouted, finally losing her temper.

Alice huffed and turned to face her sister. I quickly aimed my wand at the tent, satisfied as it erected itself.

"We are currently in Burleigh Heads in Queensland, Rosalie," Alice explained calmly, "and we are here because Bella thought it would be a nice gesture to give us a decent vacation."

"What's your idea of a decent vacation—sitting on a shady hill, listening to other people having fun in the sun?" She marched over to a spot near to the edge of the perimeter which was exposed to the wonderful golden light. It reflected off her in the usual way, casting the familiar rainbows like the skin of a goddess.

A gasp from behind me captured the attention of each of us. I turned to see Edward peering at his hand, which he held out in front of him as a single ray of sunshine filtered down through the trees and onto the skin of his fingers. In the next second, he lowered his hand to his side, his eyes staring ahead at Rosalie. Then, slowly but surely, he made his approach, passing each of us as if in a trance. When he was only three feet away, he hesitated, and then, appearing to inhale a deep, slow breath, he stepped into the brilliant pool of light, finally coming face to face with his sparkling sister.

I heard a number of immediate sharp intakes as we all gazed on at the pair, and it seemed for the longest time that speech was beyond each member of the group, excluding Alice and myself. Because there, right in front of us, was an impossible contrast: two, ethereal beings standing side by side in the sunlight, the skin of one reflecting spectrums of colour in all directions; the skin of the other, though radiant and lovely, no more shocking or bizarre than that of an ordinary human being.

Edward's eyes found mine, and as I looked into the resurrected sea green shade that was gradually seeping back into his irises, all I could see was titanic gratitude and a love as immortal as his frozen, seventeen year-old body.

**A/N: I know this chapter was mostly filler, but I couldn't really find a way of getting around it. I didn't want to just jump ahead. It probably would have given the impression that something was missing. I hope you liked it anyway. Please review. Thanks.**


	7. Australia

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while. I didn't want to try and condense the holiday—it would have felt a bit rushed otherwise. I hope you like it. I made use of J. K. Rowling's **_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them**_** in this one. I bought the book when I started writing fan fiction. It's a good thing I did really—it gave me a few fun ideas. Hope you like them.**

"Who wants potion?" Alice asked, officially breaking the silence.

In my peripheral vision, I saw the others rush towards her in their sudden excitement, though Rosalie continued to stare open mouthed at her bronze-haired brother. Finally, when I was just beginning to consider the fact that she may never move again, she very slowly turned and began walking towards Alice. I felt a jolt of surprise as she reached for my hand on her way past, gently squeezing my fingers before swiftly releasing them.

Edward, by the looks of things, was rooted to the spot. Maybe he was afraid to step out of the light, fearing that if he did so, his skin would revert to its usual extraordinariness. I unhurriedly moved in his direction, stopping only when I was a foot away.

His hand reached up to caress my face, and I shivered slightly as his fingertips moved over my cheekbones, the tingling sensation his touch provoked seeming to penetrate my skull and shoot down my spine. I felt my breathing accelerate as my heart flew into a heavy sprint.

"How?" he whispered, his voice filled with awe, as well as a desperate longing to understand.

"Your skin reflects light," I explained. "The potion doesn't work by affecting you physically—it doesn't alter your body or genetic makeup. It works by attracting light, almost in the same way that a magnet would attract iron. That's why the potion was so dark—it absorbs the light and reduces the amount of rays that are reflected. Your skin, technically, is the same as it always has been—still hard like marble and protected against spells."

"How long does it last?" Emmett asked from behind me.

"Longer than most potions would for a human. That's the great thing about administering to vampires ... your bodies use up fluids much more slowly than ours, so the effects of one small glass will last you days, rather than hours. I made enough that each one of you will be able to take another dose when this one wears off, so you'll be able to go out in the sun the entire time we're here."

Edward was still directing the same tender look at me. I laced my fingers through one of his hands and pulled him towards the tent.

"I laid your things on the bed in Edward's room, Bella," said Alice. "I want you to do your hair as well. Soft curls will do."

"But my hair is going to get wet!"

"So what? It will only take you a couple of seconds to do it. You may as well."

I rolled my eyes and walked inside, still clutching Edward's hand.

"She's going to be a nightmare, isn't she? I don't know why I made that agreement. I only ended up asking her for help anyway. Do you think she'll—"

"Bella," Edward interrupted suddenly. I stopped and turned to look at him, and saw that his face was overflowing with emotion. He wound his arms about my waist and pulled me against his chest. "I don't know how to thank you. This is one thing that I don't think I'll ever to be able to repay you for."

"You've given me you," I murmured. "I'm the one that's trying to make up the difference. I don't think I'll ever manage it."

"It's the other way around," he disagreed. "Our lives were spent in the shadows before you came along. I've never felt so close to human since I became a vampire as I have in the last five minutes."

"You still have superhuman strength and speed," I pointed out.

"I can live with that," he smiled.

I beamed at him, before reluctantly pulling away.

"I have to go get ready now, or Alice will attack me."

"Go on then," he laughed. "I don't want to put you in the path of danger."

I grinned, pivoting on my heels and running up the stairs towards his room. It was the third door down, and when I stepped through it, I sighed happily at the sight of the clear blue sky overhead. I was almost looking forward to going to sleep that night—the immaculate Australian sky would undoubtedly offer a spectacular view, and I really couldn't wait to share it with my vampire boyfriend.

I walked over to the bed where Alice had left my things. There laid the hybrid swimsuit, terrifying in every respect. My only comfort was Alice's promise that her brother would like it. Beside it was a short, emerald caftan, made of thin, delicate material; a pair of black, Gucci sunglasses; a set of gold filled, wooden bead; and a pair of brown and gold toe-post sandals.

When I had finished dressing, I performed the same grooming spell that I had demonstrated to the Cullens the day we had received the visit from Professor McGonagall. Then I crossed the room to peer into the giant mirror situated in the corner.

All in all, the outfit was rather pretty—very summery— but it would have been better suited to someone with tanned skin and sun-kissed beach hair. The caftan wasn't as long as I would have preferred, either, but it was hardly the main concern, considering what was underneath it. My stomach clenched slightly as I recalled my nightmare.

"Stop being such a coward, Bella," I said to myself, spinning towards the door and marching from the room before I could change my mind.

The others were waiting for me downstairs, each of them already having changed.

Esme was wearing a long, halter-neck sundress; it was plain and white, giving her the appearance of some kind of Greek goddess. Rosalie was wearing a soft orange ruffle dress that cut off at the top of her thighs. Once again, she looked like she should have been on the cover of Sports Illustrated—her figure was perfect. Alice had selected a sapphire trapeze dress, which reached just above her knees. She had a large, silver beach bag slung over her shoulder. The twisted handle was navy, and there were patterns of the same shade covering the rest of the fabric. On anyone else, the outfits would have passed for casual; on the vampires, however, they would have looked just as good on the red carpet as they would on a sandy beach.

I found myself suddenly considering the idea of feigning sickness and insisting that they all go on without me. If I had thought that I would have been able to pull it off and deceive the Cullens, I probably would have gone through with it.

I looked across at Edward as I reached the bottom of the stairs. He seemed to be assessing my outfit, his eyes lingering on the hem of my caftan as I approached. They had a hungry look about them. I felt my heartbeat accelerate at his stare.

He was wearing a simple, white tank top and black beach shorts. His father and brothers had been given similar garments, too. Emmett's tank top was black, and he had red beach shorts; Jasper's top was white, whilst his shorts were navy; Carlisle was wearing an indigo tank top, and his bottoms were a deep shade of grey. To finish off their outfits, Alice appeared to have adorned them all with surfer beads, the shade of the accessories coordinated to match the tones of their clothing.

I smiled.

"Ready to go?" asked Esme.

"Sure," I answered, not being completely truthful in my attempts to hide my self-consciousness.

She and Carlisle led us all out of the tent and through the trees. Edward and I followed at the back, my fingers laced through his. I slipped occasionally as the slope of the hill grew steeper. Luckily, Edward's super reflexes saved me before I could hurt myself, and eventually he just resigned himself to carrying me until we reached the bottom. I would have protested, only it was safer not to—I'd almost broken my neck five times already.

Our hill was located directly beside a white sandy beach, which looked out onto bright blue waves—perfect for those with an interest in surfing. There were numerous hotels and apartments situated nearby, which, at the moment, were catering to those wanting to take advantage of the dry season. I saw very few children—the semesters probably weren't the same here, due to the seasonal differences—but there was an abundance of adults and teenagers.

Hundreds of heads turned in our direction as we headed down the beach. Rosalie had pulled Emmett to the front and was leading our party. She claimed that she was trying to find a good spot, but I suspected that she was simply enjoying the adoration she was receiving from the flabbergasted males that were lining the shore. I wasn't ignorant of the stares of the women, either; their eyes remained fixed to the men, especially Edward, watching like hawks after catching sight of tasty-looking prey.

My jaw clenched.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, obviously hearing the sound of my teeth grinding together.

"Oh, it's nothing—I'm just contemplating whether or not I should perform nose hair growing jinxes on each of these females. They look like they could use a distraction."

When my eyes snapped to Edward's face, I saw that his mouth was pressed into a hard line as he tried to suppress the wave of laughter my statement had threatened to cause.

I huffed.

"You know, you really are cute when you're jealous. It's almost worth all the attention we seem to draw."

"I'm not jealous—I just think they could be a little less obvious about it."

"Like _you_ were when you first saw us in the cafeteria?" he teased, drawing his hand from mine before winding his arm over my shoulder. He pulled our bodies closer, and I slid my arm around his waist in response, feeling thoroughly appeased as the women glared at me resentfully. "Better?"

"Slightly," I answered, though I couldn't prevent the satisfaction from creeping into my voice.

Finally, Rosalie picked a spot, and began laying out the towels with Alice. Jasper and Emmett wasted no time, both of them immediately charging for the water the second they had rid themselves of their shirts, diving beneath the azure waves with incredible grace. I sat down with the remaining vampires. They, evidently, wanted to relax in the sun for a while longer, which was understandable considering the fact that they very rarely saw it. Fifteen minutes after our arrival, however, Edward was ready to join his brothers.

"Do you want to go for a swim?" he asked happily.

"Um ... you go ahead. I'll be down in a couple of minutes."

He smiled and pulled off his top, before jogging towards the sea.

"You can't put it off forever, Bella," Alice sang, her eyes on her brother as he wandered into the water.

"Put what off?" asked Rosalie.

I silently prayed that Alice wasn't about to disclose my fears to her astonishingly beautiful sister. That was the last thing I needed; naturally, therefore, she did.

"Bella is having a case of nerves. She's afraid to remove the caftan."

Rosalie's mouth twitched at the corners as she tried to conceal her amusement. She fluidly rose to her feet and shimmied out of her dress, revealing her vampiric figure in all its glory. I felt my self-esteem plummet dramatically. The effect was doubled as Alice rose to her feet and did the same. Both were wearing bikinis of the same colour as their outfits. Rosalie's was a halter-neck, whereas Alice's was a tube.

Together, they lifted me up to my feet, one on either side of me, before proceeding to pull the comforting caftan over my head as I protested. Alice slid the sunglasses from my face and removed the beads from around my neck, whilst Rosalie stood inspecting my suit.

"That's a good choice," she explained. "It will reveal enough to show you off, yet cover enough to make him want to see more."

"Rose!" I exclaimed, thoroughly mortified by her statement and unable to banish my awareness to the presence of Carlisle and Esme.

"I'm just saying—that's how adolescent guys work."

"Edward is over a hundred years-old," I whispered.

"His body is frozen at seventeen. I'm sure the mechanics are exactly the same now as they were back in the early nineteen-hundreds."

I truly wanted to die, now. If it hadn't been for the fact that I was so utterly embarrassed, I probably would have been worrying about sunburn—my cheeks were burning profusely with the heat of my blush. They each linked an arm through mine, then, and began walking me towards the sea.

The boys were floating a little way away, laughing and attempting to push each other beneath the surface. Emmett noticed our approach before I could make it into the water, thereby, alerting his brothers to our arrival, causing them to turn and look at us. Edward instantly froze, and, despite the distance which separated us, his penetrating gaze burned along my skin more forcefully than the rays of the afternoon sun. I could practically feel the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

The air temperature could have been no less than eighty degrees Fahrenheit, and although the water was warmer than I had expected, the rapid change in heat created mild discomfort.

"Wait, wait ... I'm going to need some time to get used to this," I winced. "Give me a few minutes and I'll come and meet you."

"Alright," said Rosalie, releasing my arm in the same moment that Alice did, "but if you're not in soon, we're coming back for you."

Her promise, strangely enough, managed to put a smile on my face. There had been a time when she had done her best to ignore me. The gradual change in her attitude and her occasional friendly and appreciative gestures really did make me feel like we were making definite progress as friends. I knew full well, of course, that if it hadn't been for my magical abilities and everything that I was suddenly able to introduce the family to, nothing much would really have changed. She would have treated me civilly, but her resentment would have overshadowed anything else she felt for me.

The girls began to swim away towards their husbands, travelling at a leisurely pace in order to avoid any unwanted attention; as they left, however, Edward drew nearer. He stopped when he was about ten metres away, watching silently as he waited for me to enter the ocean. Realising that the sooner my body was submerged, the sooner I would no longer be on show, I waded into the waves, shivering slightly as the chill tingled up my spine, until I was eventually waist deep, directly facing Edward.

"It's a little nippy," I said shyly.

My favourite crooked smile crept onto his face as he replied, "I can't really empathise."

I smiled meekly, not entirely sure what course of action to take next. He closed the space between us, stopping only when I could feel his icy breath on my face. I was very aware of my hammering pulse as his fingertips stroked gently up and down my back, with no more pressure than he would have used if he had been touching a soap bubble.

The pressure on my back suddenly increased and, in the next instant, I found myself pressed against him, the lines of our bodies fitting so closely together that we were in danger of merging into one single being. I was definitely grateful to Edward when he lowered his face towards mine: I seriously doubted that I would have been able to speak with the state I was in—my breathing was coming so fast that it was bordering on hyperventilation, and if I hadn't been standing in the water, my jelly legs probably would have caused me to collapse to the floor.

His lips moved to kiss along my jaw and down towards the base of my neck when I finally pulled away to breathe.

"I like your suit," he said huskily, his lips moving against my collarbone.

"Me too," I said in a daze, relief flooding my brain as I realised the stupidity of my earlier fears. I guess Rosalie and Alice had been right. I should have trusted them to start with—they clearly knew more about men than I did.

"You're beautiful, Bella. I'm really not looking forward to having to listen to the thoughts of the men around here when they see you like this."

"I don't think that will be a problem if I'm walking next to vampires."

"You obviously don't know very much about how men's minds work."

I think we'd already covered that; still, I couldn't bring myself to agree with Edward.

In the next moment, he was pulling us into deeper water, towards his brothers and sisters. Rosalie was sat on Emmett's shoulders, whilst Alice was seated on Jasper's, both attempting to knock one another into the water.

"Who do you think will win?" I asked turning to face Edward, only to find that he had vanished. All of a sudden, I was being propelled out of the ocean, my legs arranged in the same way as the other girls about my boyfriend's neck. I automatically clenched my thighs to stop myself from falling, though I don't think that Edward would have allowed that to happen, regardless.

"Edward," I protested, "what are you doing? You don't really expect me to try and wrestle your sisters? I haven't the slightest chance!"

"They'll go easy on you," he laughed.

I didn't argue—it was nice to see him in such a carefree mood. I liked it.

"Aw, look—" cried Emmett, as we neared the group, "the little witch has come to challenge the vampires!"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," I smiled playfully, his patronising tone forcing me into retaliation.

"Bless," he chuckled. "It's like a little lamb wishing it were cool enough to take down a pride of lions."

"And you think strength equates to coolness, do you, Emmett?"

"This is Emmett you're talking to, Bella," Edward laughed. "Of course, he does."

"Silly, macho vampire," I teased. "Witches and wizards are far cooler."

"Hell no," he argued good-humouredly. "A vampire could kill a witch in a heartbeat."

"True," I chuckled, "but a qualified witch could turn your jeep into a baby elephant. You'd look great riding one of those through town."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but his face never lost its look of amusement. I faintly registered the fact that Edward was edging us closer, until only a few feet separated us.

"Making threats, are we?"

"Not at all," I answered. "Just pointing out the facts of the matter."

Edward lunged forwards then in the same moment that Jasper did. I, Rosalie and Emmett appeared to be the only ones taken by surprise. My hands reflexively shot out in front of me, briefly brushing Rose's shoulder, just as Alice's palms launched at her target. Rosalie fell backwards into the water, pulling her husband with her.

Alice, Jasper and Edward broke out into fits of laughter, whilst I stared on confusedly in the rush of everything. The entire movement had been perfectly synchronised and had happened within the space of a second. My eyes flashed to the victorious vampires as Rosalie and Emmett resurfaced. Edward must have been listening to Jasper's thoughts, the two of them secretly planning whilst I had unintentionally distracted their brother. Alice had obviously seen it all before it had happened.

"Aw, did the big scary lion get beaten by the lamb?" Edward asked mockingly.

Emmett's face was a picture. I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach as I did so.

The next thing I knew, I was being forced backwards, falling from Edward's shoulder into the blue waves. The entire thing was so fast that I didn't realise what had happened until I was inhaling a mouthful of sea water. I spluttered as my head broke into the warm, fresh air. Edward, too, by the looks of things, had been submerged. We both looked over to the triumphant couple who were cheering at their success.

"Champions!" they sang together, Jasper's still carrying his petite wife, whose arms were raised in celebration. "Champions!"

Alice dove from her husband's shoulders and into the water, and we all laughed together, splashing around like a group of ordinary teenagers. Carlisle and Esme joined us later, and we must have spent at least an hour playing amongst the waves. Eventually, however, the doctor pointed out my reddening shoulders, and suggested that I return to the shore to apply a layer of sun-block.

"Oh, damn," I said as I peered at the rosy marks that were forming on my skin. "I was going to apply a screening spell before I came out. I forgot." My eyes flicked to the people sat along the sand. I could probably pull it off without them noticing, but it would be irresponsible to risk it.

"It's alright, Bella," said Alice, "I packed a high factor sun lotion. It's in the bag."

Edward and I left the others in the water as we headed towards the shore hand in hand.

"I was right," he growled quietly, his eyes flying to a group of boys near to where our towels were laid. "A jinx would be good now, Bella ... or maybe I should consider a more serious course of action."

When we reached our spot, I pulled the sun-block from Alice's bag, holding it out for Edward to take. His brow furrowed slightly as he grasped it.

"Maybe you could get the message across without resorting to violence."

His earlier reaction to my swimsuit had given me a boost in confidence, so I daringly shuffled in front of him and pulled my hair over my shoulder.

He chuckled quietly at my suggestion, and kissed my shoulder lightly as he swept the last few strands of hair out of the way.

"Lie down, Bella," he murmured, to which I complied, the butterflies active in my stomach once more. I positioned myself on my front, with my hands resting beneath my chin.

I squeaked as the cold lotion dribbled onto my skin, earning another throaty chuckle from Edward. His hands travelled slowly over the length of my back, gently massaging and spreading the sun-block.

It felt wonderful, like something you'd expect when receiving a spa treatment. My body reacted accordingly the lower his hands travelled, and my heart was hammering so fast that I wouldn't have been at all shocked if it had started forcing me into the air like the spring of a pogo-stick. It picked up, even more so, when Edward began applying the stuff to the backs of my legs.

"Is there something the matter with your heart?" he asked, the tone of his voice indicating that he was undoubtedly enjoying himself.

"No," I answered as he finished, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry, "I'd say it's working just fine."

I shifted into a sitting position and began covering the rest of my body with lotion, my awareness of Edward's lingering stare never dwindling. He smiled as I caked my nose with a protective layer.

"I feel like a greased-up monkey," I muttered, stuffing the bottle back into the bag.

"I like it," he laughed.

I rolled my eyes, before giving a brief glance at the nearby group of boys. None of them were looking at me, though one of them—a muscular blonde who looked to be about twenty—was glaring at Edward in a Mike Newton type fashion.

"Was the experiment effective?"

"Definitely," he said, his voice infused with satisfaction. "I think we should put it into practice more often."

I smirked and turned back to him. "Is that because you managed to get the message across, or because you enjoyed it?"

"A bit of both," he admitted, smiling mischievously.

Edward held out his arm for me as he laid down, and I settled beside him, my head rested against his chest.

The day was perfect. We spent the hours switching between relaxing in the Australian heat and playing in the water. Alice had packed two beach paddles and a ball. We played with those for a while but, unfortunately, I wasn't a natural born beater. When I jumped to hit the ball, I usually missed and ended up crashing into the water, much to Edward's amusement.

We stayed on the beach until five. I fell asleep at one point, completely exhausted as a result of the time difference. The Cullens agreed that we would spend the evening in the tent to allow me to catch up on my sleep. I had insisted that they go exploring without me, but they seemed perfectly content with the idea of staying inside.

Emmett and Jasper occupied themselves with a game of wizarding chess, both of them whooping in delight whenever one of the pieces did something interesting. I think Jasper struck up a good friendship with one of his knights after the excessive compliments it paid him on his strategic skills. Rosalie and Alice were busy soaking in the jacuzzi, whilst Carlisle and Esme kept themselves busy with more books from the shelves.

I climbed into bed at eight thirty. I had tried to stay awake for as long as possible, knowing that if I went to sleep too early I would be just as worn out the following night. The sky was as dark as midnight, clear and littered with thousands of stars, which sparkled like burning diamonds against the blackness.

The next day was much the same as the first, only the Cullen siblings decided it would be a good and fun idea to buy boards for each of us. I couldn't say that I was fond of the concept of trying my hand at surfing. My balance was reserved specifically for sitting down. Chairs and brooms I could handle, but boards of any kind were another matter entirely. I fell more times than I could count, and not once did I manage to stand up fully.

The vampires, on the other hand, had no problems. They rode the waves as if they each had the experience of professional surfers, and I don't think I was the only one to be completely mesmerised as they danced with the ocean. Dozens looked on in wonder, entranced by their beauty and graceful movements.

We spent the evening walking along the coast, enjoying the fiery colours which streaked across the sky as the sun began to set, creating the illusion that the stratus was ablaze.

On the third day of our trip, the Cullens and I travelled to Ayers Rock. Carlisle had requested that we visit it, and I was only too happy to oblige in taking him—I had my own reasons for wanting to see the place.

"Are we going to climb it?" asked Emmett.

"No," said Carlisle firmly. "Uluru is sacred to the local Aboriginals. It would be disrespectful to do so."

No one argued, though Emmett did stare on disappointedly at the monumental monolith.

I followed the Cullens around the rock, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for the sign of a deep fracture in the wall. Alice found it before I did. She skipped happily towards the crack, her fingers trailing along the small engravings on either side. On the left, there was an image of a dragon, and on the right there was a plain circle. I extracted my wand from my purse, and tapped the dragon twice, and the circle five times. Immediately, the ground began to tremble, whilst the crack in the wall grew wider and wider, opening up into a three foot wide fissure, revealing a rocky corridor that led away into the darkness.

"Well, I was _not _expecting that," said Emmett as he peered into the shadows.

"What's down there, Bella?" asked Carlisle.

"The wizarding version of a shopping mall," I answered, stepping into the passageway. The others followed me in, and we walked in singular file, descending further and further into the earth, winding this way and that through the gloomy corridor. The only light came from torches on the walls, but they were spaced so far apart from each other that they did little to expel the shadows.

"How did you find out about this place?" Edward questioned, his voice loaded with intrigue.

"I did some research before we set off from Washington. There's a book in your tent that lists the various places of interest in different countries around the world."

A few minutes after we had entered Uluru, we came to a fork in the corridor. On the wall leading off into the left hand passage was the same dragon picture we had encountered earlier, only this one was much larger; on the other side was the circle.

"Which way should we go first, Alice?" I asked.

"Let's take the right, first. We can check out the museum after we've bought supplies."

"Supplies?" said Carlisle.

"Supplies," nodded Alice, giving nothing away.

Edward grinned like a Cheshire cat as we turned down the right hand passage. I directed a questioning look at him.

"Alice showed me what's down the left corridor. I can't wait to see it."

"Me neither," I smiled.

Finally, we reached the end of ominous walkway. I felt my jaw drop as I gazed at the sight before me. The passage had opened up into a tremendously vast dome-shaped cavern. It housed dozens of shops and restaurants, all of which had been built into the circular red stone wall, leaving the space of the hall completely free, save for a gigantic obsidian fountain standing at its centre. A sinister looking dragon statue rose up from middle, its eyes replaced with burning white fire, whilst a thick jet of clear water sprayed from its mouth.

We explored the dome, discovering everything it had to offer. Jasper and Emmett had the time of their lives in _Zester's Palace_, Uluru's jokeshop. They found a number of things which interested them, ranging from magical fireworks to trick sweets.

"What are you planning on doing with those?" I asked warily, indicating the box of Hypnotic Fudge in Emmett's hands as we left the shop. The candy was charmed to make the person who swallowed it think that they were some kind of farm animal.

"I'm not sure yet," he answered, "but I'm seriously considering feeding it to the Slytherins."

I laughed loudly, then, exceedingly happy with Emmett's devilish scheming.

My favourite store was undoubtedly the sweetshop, _Lollipockets_. It was brilliant—three times as big as Honeydukes, and there were sweets there that I'd never even heard of before, as well as the familiar ones stocked in British stores, including Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees, Chocolate Frogs, and Blood-flavoured Lollipops. I was more interested in the unknown candy, though.

There was a bunch of fascinating products, such as Botecotti's Brilliant Chocolate Opraline. The magical praline gave anyone who ate an incredible opera singing voice, the effects of which lasted roughly five minutes—enough for one song. There were also Morphing Mallows—the make-over sweet—which had the power to temporarily alter an individual's appearance by lending them the powers of a Metamorphmagus. They had Jollybeans, too, which sent the consumer into a short phase of euphoria.

The Fairy-Floss, however, was the most interesting form of candy in terms of appearance. It was made in store, and was available in a range of colours, such as pale pink, baby blue, mint green, silver, and gold, all of which sparkled prettily. What was so fascinating about it was the fact that it came in a bouquet, and actual fairies would flutter out of the floss to slide flowers into the hair of the purchaser.

Edward caught me staring at the sugary bunches, and insisted on buying me a stick. The assistant even allowed us to select the flowers we wanted. My bouquet was made up of snowdrops, baby's breath, jasmine and orange blossom, all surrounding a head-sized ball of silver Fairy-Floss. The others followed Edward's lead, seeming to decide that buying me a variety of sweets would help to convey their appreciation for the potion I had made them. I don't know why they were so insistent—it had been their money I'd used to buy the ingredients after all, and it wasn't as if I'd had to expend lots of time making it—but I suppose they wanted to return the gesture. I received everything from slithering Caramel Snakes to Opraline. The floss was my favourite by far, even though I hadn't tried the other candies.

Within an hour, my hair was littered with lovely white flowers, and whenever a fairy flew out from between the leaves and petals to decorate my mahogany locks, I couldn't suppress the girly impulse to giggle. Edward found that very entertaining for some reason.

He and his family enjoyed _Lollipockets_ almost as much as I did. They seemed overjoyed by the fact that they had found a type of candy they could actually consume and appreciate.

"I've never had a lollipop before," Carlisle beamed.

"What kind of blood does it taste like?" I asked.

"Like diluted human blood," said Emmett, after a moment, his face pensive. "It reminds me of watermelons."

"Watermelons?" I scoffed.

"Yeah. Watermelons are still fruit, but their flavour is nowhere near as strong as oranges or strawberries—they're watery ... and sugary, yet still pleasant."

"Interesting," I said, smiling as we turned into the dragon-marked corridor.

We descended down a rocky staircase that seemed to go on forever. Finally, however, we reached the bottom, the passageway opening up into an enormous hall, exactly the same as last time, only this one was even bigger than the first. Hundreds of torches were fixed to the wall, illuminating the area and the colossal skeleton lying at its centre.

"Is that a dragon?" asked Rosalie, who was completely astounded by the sight.

"Yes. It's an Antipodean Opaleye. They're usually found in New Zealand, but some migrate if they can't find a free territory to claim. This species is relatively small for a dragon."

"That's small?" Emmett said incredulously.

"What did you expect?" I laughed.

"I'm not sure ... Something as tall as an elephant, maybe."

"Well that thing is definitely taller than an elephant," Jasper noted. He, like his brother, stared on in wonder. The sight had been enough to distract him from his lollipop, which he had been furiously licking ever since purchasing it.

We spent an hour in the museum—the Cullens were keen to see everything, and like regular tourists, their excitement was making them snap-happy. Alice forced the men to pose in front of the remains. The sight was actually pretty hysterical: they flexed their muscles as if insinuating that they had slain the creature themselves. Then, of course, they forced the girls to do the same. Emmett shook with laughter as he watched me, and loudly stated that a bunny would beat me in a battle of strength. That was when I threatened to spike his supply of dragon's blood with a strength-sapping solution. He was a little more cautious after that.

There were other interesting things on exhibition in the hall, including a preserved dragon skin. The scales were iridescent and pearly, and glittered in the light, though not as brightly as vampire skin. The Cullens each noted how tough they seemed, and although they would have still been able to tear them apart, the scales would've been infinitely more difficult to destroy than bear skin.

"That was incredible," said Carlisle as we passed back into the open air. "It's one thing to be told that dragons exist, but it's another thing entirely to see them for yourself."

"I'll say," agreed Edward.

I nodded—that was one thing I could definitely relate to.

"Is there anyone nearby?" I asked, not wanting to risk returning to Burleigh Heads until I knew it was safe.

The eyes of the vampires swept the landscape, whilst they listened carefully for the sound of human activity.

"There's no one on this side of the rock," said Edward. "The local aboriginals are on the other."

"Ok, good, let's—oww!"

The family spun at my outburst, concern sweeping each of their expressions.

I stared at my arm in confusion, where a tiny red mark had developed.

"Must be an insect sting," I muttered, my fingers gently stroking the blemish. "Come on ... let's get back."

We were back at our campsite within a minute. Rosalie suggested that we spend the rest of the day down at the beach, since it was only one o'clock. The vampires began a new conversation then, discussing something or other; I wasn't sure what—I wasn't really concentrating on them, because I had just caught sight of an exceedingly interesting cloud.

I giggled quietly at the sight of it ... then I giggled some more, a little louder this time ... and then I broke out into full blown hysterics.

"Um, Bella," said Jasper, his face painted with both amusement and bewilderment, "are you alright?"

I tried to speak, but my I couldn't get the words out—my chest was tightening and I could barely breathe. I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes but more replaced them.

"Bella, what is?" asked Edward, whose expression matched that of his brother.

I pointed at the sky, falling to my knees as I did so.

"Bear," I wheezed. "Teddy bear ... clouds ... Emmett!"

"Huh?" said Emmett dumbly, his eyes scanning the sky.

"The cloud ... it looks like ... a teddy ... a teddy bear ... and I thought of you!"

My explanation only served in renewing my laughter, and I hooted so hard that pains shot through my torso as my muscles cramped.

"I remind you of a teddy bear?"

I nodded, the tears spilling more rapidly down my face.

The Cullens looked at each other warily, clearly under the impression that I was going mad. Maybe I was. I shouldn't have found that funny ... but I did.

"I think we should rename you," I giggled, my eyes flying to the burly vampire. "Emmett isn't really a name for a teddy bear. How about Buttons?"

Jasper's mouth pressed into a hard line and he shook with silent laughter, but the others stared on blankly, unable to make anything of my sudden giddiness.

I jumped to my feet then and ran towards Edward, launching myself into his arms and kissing him on the cheek.

"Let's play! Edward, you can be the putty tat. I'll be the canary. Catch me!" I jumped from his grasp and hurtled through the forest, my balance somehow having dramatically improved as I raced away from him, my hair billowing behind me.

A flash of bronze streaked past me, and then he was there, cutting me off, his face unreadable. I squealed and changed direction, my heart pumping madly as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. The next thing I knew, I was being swept up by Edward's strong, muscular arms, laughing hysterically throughout the entire thing.

"Oh no! Please don't hurt me, Mr. Putty Tat! I'll be good, I promise! I swear I'll do anything you want!"

Then I was inside the tent, being lowered onto the soft cushions at centre of the main room. I tried to get up, feeling too hyper to remain immobile, but a pair of cold hands held me down.

"I think we can all agree that this isn't Bella's normal behaviour," Edward said. "We need to figure out what's causing her to act like this."

"Maybe it's the candy," said Esme. "She doesn't have sweets very often—perhaps this is just a sugar rush."

"I doubt it," said Carlisle, shaking his head. "It would have happened sooner if that had been the case, and it wouldn't have come on so suddenly."

"What about the sting on her arm?" Alice suggested. "The laughing fits started a few minutes after she mentioned it."

"I want to get up," I giggled. "I want to dance!"

Edward's eyes grew wide for a second, before he said, "There's definitely something wrong with her. Alice, look ahead. It might give us some answers."

I wasn't really concentrating on Alice's face—I was preoccupied once again by the sky above—but I vaguely registered her moving away from me after Edward gave his instruction.

"Got it," she sang. My eyes flicked to look at her, and saw that she had taken _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _from one of the book shelves.

"_The Billywig," _she read, _"is an insect native to Australia. It is around half an inch long and a vivid sapphire blue, although its speed is such that it is rarely noticed by Muggles and often not by wizards until they have been stung. The Billywig's wings are attached to the top of its head and are rotated very fast so that it spins as it flies. At the bottom of the body is a long thin sting. Those who have been stung by a Billywig suffer giddiness followed by levitation. Generations of young Australian witches and wizards have attempted to catch Billywigs and provoke them into stinging in order to enjoy these side effects, though too many stings may cause the victim to hover uncontrollably for days on end, and where there is severe allergic reaction, permanent floating may ensue. Dried Billywig stings are used in several potions and are believed to be a component in the popular sweet Fizzing Whizzbees."_

"Ha!" boomed Emmett. "This is going to be hilarious."

Edward growled at his brother's remark.

"Oh, come on, Edward! This can hardly be classed as a bad thing. At least Bella is enjoying herself. It's far better than it would have been with a regular sting."

Edward's tight expression loosened as he regained his calm; then, all of a sudden, a wide grin swept across his face.

"I guess you're right ... Buttons."

I burst out laughing, unable to control myself. The others joined in too, including Emmett, though his eyes narrowed at my insanely perfect boyfriend.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, Mr. Putty Tat."

It hurt so bad—my stomach and chest felt as if they would crack down the middle from laughing.

"I don't understand how we could've missed it," said Esme after she and the others had settled down.

Edward released my arms and legs a second later, evidently no longer fearing for my safety or mental health. I jumped to my feet and immediately began spinning in circles, entranced by the way everything seemed to blur together.

"Wooh!"

"I remember a buzzing," said Jasper. It sounded like a regular insect, though—nothing out of the ordinary—and we were looking away from Bella, checking the area to make sure we could leave."

"You're right," agreed Carlisle. "It must have stung her then."

The merging colours were very pretty, and I quickly increased my pace in my excitement, spinning faster until I couldn't retain my balance anymore. I fell backwards, my head connecting with the floor as I landed. Luckily, the carpet was so thick that it cushioned the impact, but I decided to play it up anyway.

"Edward," I laughed, holding my hands in the air and waiting for his face to enter my line of sight, "the floor is hurting me. It's being mean. Tell it off."

He walked to my side and leaned over me, a mischievous grin plastered to his face.

"Bella, I think you're the one that hurt the floor. There it was—minding its own business—and then you came along and fell on top of it. Perhaps you should apologise."

"Nope," I said, shaking my head, "I refuse. If you were a nice boyfriend, you'd defend me against any enemy."

"And you count the floor as your enemy, do you?"

"My arch nemesis," I nodded.

Edward shook with laughter, though no sound exited his mouth. My head snapped over to his parents and siblings. Their bodies were trembling in the exact same way; even Carlisle was having difficulty containing his amusement.

Edward's eyes flicked from me to the floor, and narrowed, though he failed in beating back his smile.

"Floor," he said seriously, "you have gravely mistreated my Bella. As her fiancé, it is my duty to inform you that should you commit such an insufferable crime in the future ... I will destroy you."

"Now growl at it!" I commanded.

Edward instantly released a deafening, primal roar, which I attempted to mimic, thus, sending a wave of hoots and cheers rippling throughout the tent. Then he pulled me from the carpet and swung me onto his back.

"I don't want you to have to touch it after it offended you so strongly."

"Thank you!" I sang merrily, locking my limbs around his neck and torso, before smothering his cheek with kisses. He chuckled joyfully in response. "It'll think twice next time!"

"It will," he agreed.

I pointed my hand in the direction of the stairs, my giggles recommencing, and shouted, "Hi Oh Silver, away!"

The others burst into fits of laughter. Jasper laid spread-eagled on the floor, experiencing the hilarity of the situation for himself, as well as simultaneously feeling it through the others.

Edward ran me into his room, and deposited me on the bed, where I immediately began bouncing, singing the lyrics to songs by The Weird Sisters as I flew up and down, whilst he remained at the foot of the bed, grinning wickedly as he watched me. I tried to jump even higher, enjoying the feeling of the bed springs thrusting me back into the air, but suddenly everything seemed to slow, as if time were grinding to a halt.

"Um, Bella?" said Edward, as I stared around confusedly. When I next looked at him, his eyes were fixed on my feet. "You're floating."

I peered downward. Sure enough, a gap about three feet long separated me from the bed.

"Huh, so I am." I grinned wildly, and moved my arms and legs in circular motions, as if attempting the breaststroke in mid-air, as I tried to propel myself towards the vampire. "This isn't working. I'm stranded!"

Edward laughed hard now, obviously amused by my helplessness. Clearly, the damsel-in-distress act wasn't going to work this time. I took a different approach and swung my arms above my head like I was about to throw an invisible lasso. I quickly released the imaginary rope and began pulling Edward towards me. He played along, jumping onto the bed in one easy bound.

"Gotcha! Now you're my prisoner!"

"That's hardly something to complain about."

I giggled at his words and threw my arms about his neck.

"Do you like my flowers?" I asked, indicating the delicate buds the fairies had fixed into my hair.

"They're very pretty," he nodded.

"Do you think _I'm_ pretty?"

"What a silly question," he laughed.

"Do you?"

"Of course," he said, "I think you're the prettiest, most beautiful girl in existence."

"Well I think you're sexy!"

Laughter exploded through the tent—Edward had left the door ajar, so the Cullens had undoubtedly heard my comment, and it appeared that they were thoroughly enjoying my honesty; Edward, too, couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Come on, little witch. Let's go downstairs."

Edward grabbed my leg and pulled me through the air like he would a kite. When we reached the railing, he pushed me over the side, chuckling as I floated down towards the ground. Alice ran beneath me and pushed me back upwards so that I flew in Jasper's direction. He quickly saw where she was going, and the entire family were soon playing along, gently pushing me through the air as if I was some kind of beach ball.

I laughed the entire time, but the effects of the sting gradually began wearing off, and I started losing height. The lower I came to the ground, the faster my amusement faded, and soon enough I was lying on the floor, burying my face in the pillows, praying for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Emmett and Jasper made a great deal of jokes at my expense, and the others couldn't help but laugh along with them.

"That was completely brilliant," said Emmett, his eyes alight with joy.

"Mortifying more like," I responded, my voice muffled by the silver cushion covering my head. "Billywigs are evil creatures."

"No they're not," Alice chuckled. "You seemed to have fun, and it was certainly entertaining for us."

I groaned.

She pulled me up then, and guided me in the direction of the stairs.

"Come, on, Bella—go get changed. We're going down to the beach."

I did as she instructed, glad to have some time alone in which I could allow the blush to recede from my face. It would take a little longer than usual, because it had risen all the way to my hairline.

I put on the midnight blue bikini, and wrapped the sarong that Alice had bought me around my waist. I would have gone with a tankini instead, only I was hoping that a two piece would have the effect of distracting Edward from the memory of my recent humiliation. It worked at first—his eyes bulged slightly upon seeing me, before they travelled the length of my body as I descended the stairs. He had sent the others on ahead whilst I had been busy changing, telling them that we would join them in due course. For that I was grateful—I wasn't ready yet for the surge of jokes I would undoubtedly receive from Emmett and Jasper.

Luckily, Edward wasn't so bad at creating distractions himself, and I quickly found my embarrassment unravelling as other emotions took over. When we left the tent to join the others, I was chuckling too at my unfortunate experience—the high of kissing Edward overshadowing everything else.

"It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen," he laughed, carrying me bridal-style down the slope and onto the sand.

"I'm sure it was," I said, rolling my eyes, "but I, for one, hope that we meet no more Billywigs whilst we're here."

I walked alongside him towards the others with my hand in his, determined to enjoy the rest of the holiday, wondering all the while what the next two days would have in store. Luckily, that wasn't something I needed to worry about—the only hiccup throughout the entire trip was the Billywig incident.

On our fourth day, we jumped to Townsville's marina, and Carlisle somehow managed to hire us a yacht. I didn't want to think how much he paid for it. Alice directed him south through the Coral Sea, leading him to the area of the reef she wanted to visit, whilst I laid out in the sun with the others.

Edward was intent of feeding me Opraline, and requested various songs after the magic had taken effect. I didn't mind obliging him—Botecotti's sweets worked wonders, and whenever I opened my mouth to sing, it wasn't my voice which carried through the air. It would have been more believable to say that I had somehow managed to steal the voice of an angel. My normal singing voice was certainly nothing to brag about, nor was it something I wanted to share with the Cullens—I'd already suffered enough embarrassment by that point. I sang songs like _Time To Say Goodbye, _and the _Aria _from _The Phantom of the Opera_, much to the delight of Esme, who listened enraptured throughout the entire performance.

"Here, try one of these," said Edward, holding a marshmallow to my lips. I opened up, and he slid the sweet into my mouth.

The Morphing Mallows were actually really nice, and tasted like strawberries and ice-cream. Fortunately, I didn't grow a snout or anything like that; instead, my hair receded into my scalp until it was roughly the length of Alice's, darkening slightly as it did so, whilst my irises turned a vivid sapphire.

"Your ears have changed," laughed Alice. "You look like something from _The Lord of the Rings_."

I felt along the ridges and found that she was right. My ears had grown in length, the top of them having sharpened to a point like those of an elf. The mallows must have been fond of the 'mythical' look, because the next one I swallowed decided to turn me into some kind of traditional vampire. My hair fell down my back in gentle waves, the colour almost black, whilst my skin turned an even paler shade of white. My eyes darkened to a deep brown, and my lips turned blood red. And then, of course, there were the snowy white fangs. Edward's eyes held a soft edge as looked at me. I didn't know what to make of the emotion I saw there.

"See, you're not a real vampire, Emmett," I chuckled. "You're missing the key feature."

"Shall we test to see whose is more effective?" he smirked.

"I think I'll pass."

"So how exactly are you planning on breathing when we go diving, Bella, since you insisted we not bother with an oxygen cask?" asked Jasper, officially changing the subject.

"I'm going to cast a bubble-head charm. My eyes will be protected then as well."

I demonstrated the spell once Carlisle had anchored the yacht. It was certainly a more comfortable alternative to a snorkelling mask, which would have left marks on my face after wearing it for too long.

When I dove beneath the surface of the water, I felt as if I was entering another world—an alien garden laden with lurid colours and pulsing with life. The tentacles of the anemones waved hypnotically as I watched, their movements resembling something close to a slow and subtle dance. I gazed on, completely mesmerised, but they couldn't hold my attention for long—not when the soft coral was there to compete.

There were hundreds of different species painted in every colour of the spectrum. My time amongst the shocking pinks, the bright yellows, and the rich purples made me wish for a second that I had been born a mermaid, but then Edward was at my side, pointing at a school of brightly coloured fish up ahead, his face infinitely more dazzling that anyone or anything else in the world, and I was suddenly relieved that I lived on land.

We saw everything from electric blue starfish and giant clams, to large green sea turtles and humpback whales. It was difficult to believe that such a world could exist beneath the surface of the ocean. From above, it was nothing more than an endless expanse of blue—a sapphire desert that seemed to go on forever.

The animals avoided us for obvious reasons, but when we encountered a group of seven dolphins, I put a bit of space between myself and the vampires, remembering something about the creatures that I had heard in passing at Hogwarts.

When I was separated from the Cullens by about fifteen metres, the dolphins drew closer to me, careful at first as they assessed the level of danger I posed to them. After a few seconds, one of them released the signature whistle, before racing forwards and swimming around me in a circle. The others followed, keen to investigate; one even swam so close that barely an inch separated my bubble from its bottlenose when it finally stopped beating its flukes. After examining me for a minute, it turned away and began waving its limbs as if trying to communicate something. I caught on quickly, and took hold of its left flipper with one hand, and its dorsal fin with the other.

It instantly charged off weaving this way and that through the blue, and laughter filled my bubble as we shot passed hundreds of different kinds of fish and marine life. My head turned to look over my shoulder as I worried about losing the Cullens. Luckily, however, they were following us, maintaining between us a distance of about twenty metres, easily managing to keep up.

In a few minutes, the dolphins swam to the surface, where they began performing a range of tricks, using their tail fins to dance backwards over the water. I clapped in appreciation, and they responded by swimming closer to me and making peculiar clicking noises, which I gathered to mean that they were happy with my reaction.

Then, all of a sudden, they dived beneath the surface and out of sight. I ducked my head beneath the water, but they had already vanished into the blue. I lifted my face to scan the area around me. The vampires were floating a little way off, laughing gently as they looked my way.

"I think they've gone," I said, not bothering to shout—they'd have no trouble discerning my words.

"Just wait!" called Alice cheerfully.

"Huh? What do you—"

I didn't have time to finish. A sudden pressure at my feet propelled me out of the water and into the air. I flew upwards in a high arc, until I was about twenty feet above the surface, before I shot downwards head first, throwing out my arms in front of me and assuming a diving position. I plummeted beneath the deep-blue waves and back into the gentle calm of the colourful coral garden.

I couldn't help from laughing as I broke the surface, again, causing the dolphins to swim excitedly around me. After another fifteen minutes of playing, I pointed to the yacht that was still visible in the distance.

"Would you be able to take me there, please?" I asked. "I could use a rest."

They seemed to understand my request, and the same dolphin that had carried me earlier swam to my side, allowing me to take hold of his flippers once again. We travelled close to the surface this time, jumping from the water every now and then as we made away.

When I arrived back, I thanked the dolphins, patting each of them individually, before allowing them to dive back into the depths of the ocean.

"I can't believe they did that," said Rosalie once we were all back on the yacht and laying in the sun.

"It's not that uncommon," Carlisle smiled. "Dolphins are social creatures—playful by nature."

"They can sense magic as well," I explained. "That's why they usually approach wizards and witches. They enjoy being near to it."

"Who doesn't?" Emmett said absently, his attention focused on his blood-flavoured lollipop. When he had bought it, initially, it had been roughly the size of a toddler's head; now it about the size of a peach, and there was no doubt in my mind that it would be entirely consumed within the next hour.

I ate a few Jollybeans on the way back to the marina, and was, therefore, euphoric for the rest of our journey. I grinned blissfully as Edward gently ran his fingers back and forth over my ribs, and mentally thanked my lucky stars for giving me magical abilities. Now, whenever we wanted to spend some time alone, it would be so easy to skip from one continent to another. As my mind wondered, I considered all the places we could go in the future.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we going to go for our honeymoon?" I asked, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the heat of the sun on my face.

There was silence for a moment; I guess my question had surprised him—it wasn't everyday that I brought up marriage related topics, but the idea didn't really bother me at the moment. I suppose that was a side-effect of the Jollybeans. Eventually, he answered, a smile audible in his voice.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked. "The sky's the limit."

"Hmm ... somewhere hot ... and secluded."

"Hot, secluded—got it."

"Any ideas?" I asked, my voice lazy and mellowed.

"A few," he answered, refusing to elaborate. "Why did you bring it up?"

"Oh, you know—I'm just looking forward to it. I like being in places like this ... with you."

"You do remember that you have to get married before you can have a honeymoon?"

"Uh-huh. It's a small price to pay. I'm sure the wedding will be great."

"Maybe someone should slip her some Jollybeans before she walks down the aisle," Rosalie smirked.

The air seemed to sing with sound as the Cullens released a symphony of gentle laughter. My eyelids flicked as I focused in on Edward. His face was heavenly, made even more glorious by the fact that his smile was touching his eyes. I beamed. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Let me know your thoughts! Giggle.**


	8. Diamonds in the Sky

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I've been busy recently. Enjoy the next chapter. I think I made up for my delay with the word count. It's about twenty eight pages on word—definitely dissertation length! Let me know your opinions. =D**

I drifted in and out of sleep the night before the game. I felt like a child before Christmas morning—my mind just wouldn't switch off, so when I awoke at six on the third day in August, I figured it was pointless to try to fall back into a slumber.

When I opened my eyes, the sky above me was a dark purple, but it merged into a vivid red on the eastern side of the room. I couldn't imagine waking up to more beautiful colours; then, of course, I rolled in Edward's arms and saw his striking green eyes staring into my face. I felt my brow furrow the longer I looked at them.

A thin crimson line surrounded the pupil. It was so dark that it was barely visible against the blackness. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes after gazing at them for a few seconds, but even when the film had been removed, the red rim remained.

"Your eyes," I whispered.

His reaction wasn't what I had expected it to be; he smiled cheekily and held up his right hand, where he held the remains of his lollipop. The sweet was pitifully small in comparison to the long stick upon which it was fixed.

"They're quite addictive," he explained. "I guess there are traces of human blood in them. I'm trusting that no one had to die for this, though."

"I guess the candy man is pretty dedicated," I smirked, though I couldn't help but feel slightly repulsed by the idea. I knew Edward felt exactly the same about regular sweets, though. "They sell them in Hogsmeade, too, so you'll be able to stock up when we're at Hogwarts."

He smiled widely at that, but then changed the subject.

"You were quite restless last night."

"Oh, no ... what did I say?"

"It was mostly about Quidditch. You kept saying things like 'send him off, Ref' and 'knock him off his broom.' They were right about you, Bella—you do play dirty."

"It was only a dream," I said, the pink suddenly seeping into my cheeks.

"Right," he smirked, "and how many people have you knocked off their brooms?"

"Only three, and they were all Slytherins."

"Ah, yes, of course; clearly that would merit acts of violence," he teased, his mouth curving into a wicked smile.

"They all survived," I muttered defensively.

The sound of his laughter filled the room as he swept back the covers and picked me up off the bed.

"If I were human," he smirked, "I'd think twice before getting on the wrong side of you, little witch."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. The idea of anyone being scared of me was slightly absurd.

Edward carried me from the bedroom and along the landing until we reached the bathroom, where he deposited me.

"What colour would you prefer?" he asked, eyeing the enormous shiny faucets.

"Surprise me," I answered as rummaged through my toiletry kit for my toothbrush.

I heard the sound of two taps being turned, which preceded the whoosh of water as it shot into the bath, (though it couldn't really be called that considering its size). After two minutes of brushing, I returned my things to my bag, and turned to see what Edward had prepared for me. The bath was filled with cerulean water and swirls of iridescent gold. Bubbles of both colours were forming around the edges, quickly expanding over the surface.

My heavenly boyfriend left, then, whilst I washed. The bath was lovely; not only was the water a wonderful temperature that seemed to make my bones turn to jelly, but, also, the soothing flowery scent of roses and jasmine rose up and swelled through the room. Despite the excitement brought on by the looming Quidditch final, I suddenly felt myself drifting on the verge of sleep, unable to prevent my eyelids from sagging as the aromatic water began taking effect.

The sight of the bathroom quickly turned into a series of confusing images: there were people flying this way and that, high above the ground where I saw myself standing. I had a broomstick too, but unlike the others, I was using mine to batter a wasps' nest. My face, which seemed to be covered with stings, possessed a manic expression. I looked like a female Norman Bates—completely and utterly deranged.

I jolted awake at the sound of an insistent voice.

"Bella? Bella!"

"Huh? What? What's going on?"

"Bella," said Alice, who was leaning over the side of the bath "are you alright?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"You've been in there for about two hours. Edward and I were shouting to you on the other side of the door, but the bathroom must be soundproof too. We couldn't even hear your heartbeat. We were starting to think you'd been sucked down the plug hole."

"Two hours!" I exclaimed, lifting my hands from the water to find that they were as wrinkly as prunes. "It only felt like I was out for a few minutes!"

She shrugged in response and nodded towards a small pile of clothes that she had placed on the counter.

"Your things are there. I'll leave you to get changed."

She left the room, and I immediately shot from the water, which, surprisingly, was still as warm as it hard been when I had first stepped into it. I dressed hastily, barely paying any attention to what Alice had selected for me. I vaguely registered that I was wearing a swishy, pale-blue skirt and a white lace top.

To pass the time until noon, the Cullens and I played a few games of wizard's chess. Once again, the game between Alice and Edward was the funniest, not because of their methods this time, but because they somehow managed to infuriate every piece on the board.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" cried Alice's bishop as her hand moved towards her king.

"I'm surrendering."

"What? You can't do that! We haven't even lost a man yet! This is folly!"

"I'm a psychic, remember? Think of this as me saving your ass."

Her pieces grumbled, but there were no more complaints, other than those on Edward's team, who felt as if they had been cheated out of their victory.

When the clock finally read quarter to twelve, we all walked outside so that I could collapse the tent. Alice packed it away and removed the portkey whilst I removed the enchantments I had cast upon the area.

"This is going to be awesome!" Emmett enthused.

"I wonder which teams will be playing," Rosalie wondered. "I hope the U.S. made it through."

"I don't think they—I mean ... I don't think we will have. Quodpot has been the most popular wizarding sport at home for a while. Quidditch is gaining popularity, but it still has to compete. There are only really two teams that have made international level—the Sweetwater All-Stars for Texas, and the Fitchburg Finches for Massachusetts. If Quidditch was as big in the States as it is other places, I probably would have chosen an American team to support."

"You support a team?" Edward questioned curiously.

"Yeah, I'm an Arrows fan."

"Arrows? As in the Appleby Arrows?" said Emmett.

I nodded, and asked, "How'd you know?"

"I read _Quidditch Through the Ages_, remember? You let me borrow it. What made you choose the Arrows?"

"Well, in my first year at Hogwarts, I read up on Quidditch because it was a huge topic of conversation. The Montrose Magpies were pretty impressive—they've won the league more than any other team in Ireland or Britain, but I'm not a fan of glory supporting. I almost became a fan of the Holyhead Harpies, but in the end I chose the Arrows because of their victory against the Vratsa Vultures."

"That was the match that lasted sixteen days!"

"Yes!" I said eagerly. "That was true determination!"

Emmett and I then launched into an animated discussion about the teams in the British and Irish league, whilst the others stared on, their expressions ranging from amused to perplexed.

"I have to admit," Emmett chuckled, "I like the sound of the Falmouth Falcons."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I laughed.

"Who are the Falmouth Falcons?" asked Esme.

"It's a southern team. They're pretty brutal, and their motto is 'Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.'"

"I'm surprised you don't support them," Edward chuckled, evidently remembering the dirt that my old Quidditch buddies had spilled when we had been at Hogwarts for the battle.

I gnawed my lower lip as the blush seeped into my cheeks. I was about to retaliate, only Alice stopped me before I could get the words out.

"The portkey is going to leave in fifteen seconds."

Immediately, we all raced forwards to touch a finger to the tablecloth. I felt my heartbeat accelerate as I waited for pull and rush of colour. Edward's eyes flickered to mine as we waited, and he looked as if he was trying to hold back a grin. I imagine he found something extremely funny about the way I and my body reacted to anything Quidditch-related. He was probably recalling my sleepless night as he listened to my excited pulse.

Emmett's jubilant cries echoed through the whirlwind as we were pulled into the swirl in the next moments. I couldn't make out what he was saying over the noise of the rush, but I could understand the tenor. He was possibly even more excited than I was.

I managed to keep my balance this time as my feet collided with the ground, though I did wobble a bit. When I was convinced that I was no longer so light-headed that I was in danger of collapsing, I looked up to see where abouts we had landed. The sight alone was enough to inflict more dizziness than the portkey: we were stood on a small hillock, looking onto a vast clearing occupied by thousands of tents. Surrounding the open space was a thick forest, which appeared to have crept up and over the mountains beyond the campsite.

"Bella?" a voice called from somewhere behind me. I spun to locate the source, and there stood a small crowd comprised mostly of red-heads, though there was one bespectacled boy with dark, messy hair, and a girl with a mass of brown bushy tresses.

"Hermione!" I smiled, running forwards to embrace her. I hugged Ginny shortly after, and then Ron and Harry. Mr Weasley, Charlie, Bill and Fleur were there too, but I saw no sign of George, Percy, or Mrs Weasley. I would have enquired as to their absence, only I had a fairly good idea of the reason already.

Mr Weasley greeted Carlisle and Esme, whilst the others said hello to the younger looking Cullens. Fleur eyed Rosalie a little resentfully, but politely held out her arm in offering, which the beautiful, blonde vampire accepted.

"Did you get the Ministry tickets too?" asked Ginny.

"Yep," said Alice happily, "they were delivered to Bella. I guess the owl didn't want to come near us."

"I should have lent them Pig," Ron laughed, his arm slipping around Hermione's waist, who blushed lightly in response. "He's mental."

We all set of walking, heading towards a bulky, red-faced man holding a clipboard.

"G-day," he said in a thick Australian accent. "May I take your names, please?"

Mr Weasley gave the wizard all our information and thanked him as he pointed us in the direction of our camping spots. The Cullens and I were lucky in that our place was only three spaces away from our friends. We passed others that I recognised, all of whom seemed to be situated nearby, which was most likely due to the fact that they too were in possession of executive tickets. Amongst them, I saw Oliver Wood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan and Neville Longbottom.

I smiled at the sight of Luna and her father, Xenoplilius, and assumed that they had recently paid a visit to _Cotton & Tweed's_, based on the fact that they were currently perched in deckchairs outside a summery yellow tent with multicoloured musical notes and symbols floating over the fabric. As the music coming from inside increased its tempo, the notes began to fly faster and faster, until finally the yellow spaces in between were barely visible, disappearing in the psychedelic rush of colour. It reminded me of some kind of bizarre kaleidoscope.

"Hey, man," Emmett said, greeting Wood as he neared our tent. They clasped hands and shook as if they'd known one another for years.

"Mate," Wood nodded. "How've you all been?"

"Alright, considering."

Wood's brow furrowed in question.

Emmett motioned his head towards me, his perpetual scapegoat, and said, "Bella became the obsession of a merciless, revenge-seeking vampire who decided that the best way to get around us was to create an army of newborns."

"Wait—that was the reason for the slaughterings in Seattle? Because someone wanted to take out Bella?"

Though notably surprised by Wood's awareness of events which had occurred thousands of miles away, Emmett simply nodded, his face becoming uncharacteristically stony.

Wood's eyes widened with horror.

"It was in the _Prophet_," he said, his expression becoming vacant as he cast his mind back. "They said that vampires were suspected to be at the root of it, but I just thought it a coincidence that it was happening so close to where you live. I can't believe someone would go to such extremes to settle a score, though. What the hell did you do, Bella?"

"She didn't do anything," Alice said. "Victoria was James' mate—you know: the one that tried to kill her?"

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning something about that. You took care of it, though?" He looked to Edward for confirmation, his posture visibly relaxing the instant he received it. "Well, at least that's something."

He sighed and shook his head, before changing the topic of conversation to Quidditch.

"So, which team are you supporting?"

"We don't even know who's playing," I said. In the excitement of seeing my friends again, this time under far better circumstances, I had forgotten to enquire as to who had made the final.

Wood's hands flew into the air in outrage, undoubtedly exasperated with my ignorance.

"Bah! I don't believe this, Bella! This is unacceptable!"

"I know; it's just—"

"I don't want to hear it! Spending the summer being targeted by an army of newborns is _not_ an excuse!"

I suddenly felt as if I'd been catapulted back in time, where I was receiving the usual lecture from the Gryffindor captain, being told that only perfection and a fanatical approach to the game was acceptable.

"Honestly, Wood, now that the Cullens are in on the secret and there aren't any more terrorising vampires or magical megalomaniacs on the loose, I fully intend on getting my priorities back in order."

His eyes narrowed as he mulled over my little speech, but, finally, his expression became less severe, and he inhaled a deep breath.

"Alright, then, the final teams are—"

"New Zealand and South Africa," Emmett finished, grinning widely.

"I thought you said you didn't know."

"Vampire hearing, remember? We discovered the competing teams about a second after we arrived."

"And you couldn't have told me?" I muttered.

"Never mind that," said Wood, his attention fixed on me. "Who will you be supporting?"

"New Zealand," I said immediately.

"And why's that?"

"Because the team is outstanding! Ever since Acton Swift from the Moutohora Macaws became the captain, the team's performance has been unbelievable. They assess the strengths and weaknesses of the opposing team to build their game plan, which means that they can be very difficult to predict, since their strategy is never the same. Swift's mother is a Muggle who specialises in psychology. Apparently, she and her son study every team in detail months before tournaments to gain an understanding of the players and their mentality. It's a very clever approach."

"Maybe so," Wood nodded, "but South Africa is known for its strong offensive. They can be pretty rough. Even if New Zealand can build a strong defence, that won't help them put the Quaffle through the hoop."

"They won't be concentrating on defence," I said confidently. "That's too predictable. The South Africans will be expecting that—that's how everyone reacts to them, which is why they've made the final."

"If they're not going to counter the other team's superior offense with a good defence, how do you suppose they _will _react?" Rosalie questioned, seeming to be just as absorbed in the discussion as the rest of us.

"Offensively," Jasper reasoned, his eyes twinkling as they focused on mine.

"Exactly." We smiled at each other, as if sharing some great secret. "Everyone will be expecting them to act otherwise. If they do the opposite of what the South Africans think they will, they'll take them off guard, and since their rivals rely on a strong offense, they'll make themselves vulnerable if forced to switch to a more defensive method.

"The New Zealanders—though they may not be as strong in one area as the South Africans—are a well-rounded team. If they can force the competition into defensive position, they stand a chance of winning; if not … South Africa will blow them away."

As soon as I finished voicing my theory, a steady smile began creeping onto Wood's face, before he laughed loudly and shook his had as if in disbelief.

"You're officially forgiven," he said.

"Have I satisfactorily convinced you of my loyalty to the game, then?""Yep."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"You'd make a fitting General, Bella," Jasper remarked, his eyes flicking to Edward, who had listened throughout the entire sports-related debate with a look of unshakeable amusement.

"This is Quidditch, Jasper, not war," I reminded him.

"Strategy is strategy," he shrugged. "If you know how to apply it to one, you can learn how to do so for the other. Sport is just a less extreme version of combat."

After Wood had gone on his way to greet some of his old school companions, Alice and I decorated the outside of the portable home with banners. The New Zealand flag was draped over the top. After both Jasper and I had proclaimed our support for Australia's neighbours, the others had followed suit. The only person seeming to have difficulty with the choice was Emmett: the offensive tactics of the South African side were more his style, but he was still impressed by the opposing team's flexibility. In the end, he took brains over brawn like the rest of us.

I had also attached my Appleby Arrows banner to the front of the tent, just above the entrance in my determination to advertise my favourite Quidditch team. When that was done, we made our way over to the Weasley tent where we were invited inside by Mr Weasley.

Neither the exterior or interior were anywhere near as extravagant as the tent owned by the Vampires, yet it definitely had a certain homey charm about it. The antique furniture was mismatched in terms of style, though the colours running throughout were all comprised of rich, warm reds, browns, and oranges.

Hermione was magically decorating Ron with paint, so that his face flashed every five seconds from the blue, white, and red of the New Zealand flag, to the black, yellow, green, white, blue, and red of South Africa.

"What's the matter, Ron," laughed Emmett, "don't know where your loyalties lie?"

"He's conflicted," Harry said in mock seriousness.

"Who are _you_ supporting?" Ginny asked. She already had two small New Zealand flags on either cheek.

"Same as you," Alice sang, skipping towards the girls and sitting on the stool where Ron had been sat only moments before. Ginny laughed and set to work.

Before long, all our faces were covered in paint, excluding Mr Weasley, Carlisle and Esme, each of whom had kindly refused the offer for a Quidditch style makeover. The boys had flags painted on either cheek, though Alice and Rosalie only had one; on the other they had silver and blue stars. I, however, had a flag and two silver arrows.

Alice, who was still taking pleasure in controlling my appearance, rushed from the tent, only to return after a minute with a small zip-up bag, from which she extracted electric blue eye-shadow, black eyeliner, mascara, and a scarlet lipstick.

"You know the drill, Bella," she chirped, handing me the kit. "And I think cobalt pupils should do the trick."

_Count to ten,_ I told myself, repeating the instruction over and over in my head.

Although I was slightly irked by the fact that Alice was forcing me to change myself physically just so that I could achieve the perfect colour co-ordination, Edward seemed to enjoy the final outcome. I think he had a thing for vivid red lips, because more than once I noticed his eyes lingering on my mouth. I flashed him a wide smile, and his eyes turned glassy for the briefest moment, before he gave in to excessive blinking. I tried to hide my amusement, but one small giggle escaped, causing my spell on Edward to break. His lips spread into my favourite crooked smile, and suddenly the hypnotic enchantment had been reversed back on me.

Eventually, I managed to break free of the effect that his beauty had on me, and quickly averted my eyes, not wanting the others to catch me gawking like an idiot. Ron was informing Emmett and Jasper of the recent matches leading up to the final.

"England made it to the Quarter-Finals, but we lost to Germany."

"And what about the U.S.?" asked Jasper.

"Knocked out in the second round by Uruguay," Ron said apologetically.

"Typical," Emmett grumbled, shaking his head.

We all soon left the shelter of the tent to go exploring. It wasn't difficult to figure out when we had entered New Zealand territory. Amidst the consistent blues, reds, and white were dozens of different types of exotic animals. Koalas were climbing over the tents, whilst wonderfully coloured parrots flew this way and that. We didn't linger long in that particular area for two reasons: firstly, the Cullens were having their usual effect, causing the animals to become agitated which, in turn, resulted in a chorus of loud squawking; secondly, the New Zealanders eyed Ron threateningly whenever his face paint switched to enemy colours.

"Perhaps you should pick a side already, Ron," Ginny said as we set off walking back.

"I would if it weren't so bloody complicated! I feel like I'm trying to choose between losing my left arm or my right."

"Well, that's a bit of a stupid analogy," Charlie smirked, "considering you're right-handed."

"Alright, let's pretend I'm ambidextrous. Then what?"

"Keep the one with the most muscle."

Ron went silent as he mulled over his brother's suggestion; then, after a moment of deliberation, he abruptly announced the team he would be supporting.

"South Africa it is!"

"Ron, you are impossible," Hermione said, though she sounded more amused than annoyed as she wound an arm around his waist. He smiled widely at her and pulled her closer, his arm draping over her shoulder.

Harry quickly brought up the subject of Hogwarts. I suspected he still felt a little awkward whenever he was presented with the sight of his two best friends snuggling closely together. I could understand that; although we had all realised a long time ago that Ron and Hermione liked one another in a way that went beyond friendship, it still felt slightly bizarre seeing them together as a couple after years of bickering. I was intensely happy that it had finally happened, but it would take a while to sink in.

"We're all going," I smiled, indicating the Cullens. "Esme and Carlisle are going to be sharing Muggle Studies this year."

"Really?" Ginny said, surprised. She looked to Esme for confirmation, and grinned widely when she received it. "Wow! That's brilliant!"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Now we have someone that can give Gryffindor loads of house points and sap them from Slytherin!"

"Ha ha ha!" Emmett boomed, his eyes on me.

Esme giggled behind her hand, evidently remembering the similar remark I had made following McGonagall's visit.

"You all have a one-track mind, don't you?" Edward chortled.

"We can't help it," Harry laughed. "It's ingrained."

"It's just something that—" I stopped abruptly, having just caught sight of our tent. I felt my stomach clench and my blood boil with anger, my heart beginning to race as thoughts of revenge and justice instantly crashed through my mind. My jaw clenched as I ground my teeth in fury, because there, hanging over the entrance, was an enormous, buzzing wasp's nest, the residents of which were flying around the perimeter as if they had claimed the tent for themselves and were attempting to protect it against threats.

"Bella, there you are," cried Dean, running forwards with Seamus to meet us. He pointed over his shoulder towards the hive. "I don't know who did it, but whoever it was, they had to have put it there recently. We only went inside for five minutes, and when we came out, there it was!"

"But why would someone randomly target our tent?" Carlisle asked, completely perplexed by the idea.

I would have tried to explain, only I was so beyond angry that I doubted I would have been able to get the words out. They probably would have transformed into something incomprehensible and animalistic.

"It wasn't random," Emmett growled.

"How do you know?" asked Esme.

"Because it would be too much of a coincidence for someone to randomly stick a wasp's nest on top of an Arrow fan's tent," explained Seamus.

"The Appleby Arrows and the Wimbourne Wasps hate each other," Dean continued. "It's almost as bad as the enmity between West-Ham and Millwall."

"You always have to bring ruddy football into it, don't you?" Ron sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying I know how Bella feels. If you want help getting them back, Bells, I'm in."

"Me too," said Emmett, rubbing his hands together. "I can't let this slide."

"What are you planning on doing?" Edward asked, concern colouring his tone.

"Nothing that will hurt them physically," I said silkily, resuming my walk.

"I'll get rid of the nest," Hermione said, extracting her wand from her pocket. "_Wingarium Leviosa."_ The nest rose into the air, the buzzing scouts following their home as Hermione guided it over the camp towards the trees.

When it was safe to enter, I marched inside and up the stairs. I heard the gasps of the humans as they followed us in, seeing the incredible interior for the first time. I rushed quickly into Edward's room and over to the dresser where I had laid the collection of candy the Cullens had been kind enough to buy me. Hastily opening the box of Jungle-Jellies, I rummaged through for one with the embossed image of a tiger.

Once I had found it, I headed over to the mirror and took out my wand to remove the paint and make-up decorating my visage. Next, I transfigured my skin, smiling as the colour completely drained from every inch of my face and body. When I was as pale as Edward and his family, I turned my attention to my eyes, deliberating whether red or gold would be the most effective. In the end I went for red; if I was aiming to mentally disturb the mystery idiots, I figured I may as well do it thoroughly. Then I flicked my wand at the cosmetics Alice had left for me, closing my eyes and waiting for the black shimmery cloud to settle on my face.

When I opened my eyes and peered at my reflection, I hardly recognised myself. My eyes were in stark contrast with my skin, like onyx and blood-red rubies against snow. I had also managed to turn my teeth a blinding shade of white; they had already been a nice milky colour beforehand, but now they looked unnatural in their perfection. I could easily have passed for a member of the Volturi.

Once I had fixed my hair, I opted for a change of outfit—swishy skirts and lace could hardly be classed as terrifying. I ended up in a tight, black leggings, dark heeled ankle-boots (which would surely kill me), and a black, sequined, off-the-shoulder top. I placed the Jungle-Jelly in my pocket with my wand and left the room to go downstairs.

Ron was explaining the reason for the dislike between the two British Quidditch teams when I made my appearance. Edward's eyes flicked to me as I made my entrance. His double-take was so swift that it was practically a blur. I smiled in satisfaction as his jaw dropped. The room fell quiet as the others took in my appearance, each of them staring on in disbelief.

Seamus broke the silence and said, "Um, I think we were actually thinking along the lines of a dungbomb, Bella." He lifted a hand, opening his palm to reveal a boxed Weasley product.

"That will help, actually," I said, stepping forwards to accept the offering. "Thanks. I'll buy you some candy later."

"No worries," he laughed. "As long as I get to see you teaching the Wasps a lesson I'll call it even."

"Now, now, Bella," Mr Weasley cautioned, "don't do anything that's going to get anyone hurt."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone, Mr Weasley," I announced confidently as I walked towards the exit, "I'm just going to convince a few cretins that it's not nice or smart to upset avid Arrows fan."

Since I had absolutely no idea how to find the one responsible for the conveniently placed hive, Emmett and Edward stepped in to trace the enemy scent. It would have been an understatement to say that I attracted a few glances as we walked along the rows of tents—not that I could blame anyone; my vivid red eyes were enough to give anyone the chills.

Finally, the leading vampires came to a halt as we reached the edge of the camp. We all knew that they had located the correct tent, because a Wimbourne Wasp flag had been raised above it, draped proudly beside the South African sign. Luckily for me, I was out of the sun, standing in the shadows cast by the massive trees, so I didn't give myself away.

My head turned to look at my friends, who were standing about ten metres away, poking their heads out from behind another tent. Alice was trying her best not to laugh, as was Jasper, who seemed to find it hilarious that I could be completely incensed by a rival Quidditch fan.

I inhaled sharply, taking the sweet from my pocket and sticking it to the roof of my mouth, before I opened the box in my hand and hurled the bomb through the opening in the tent. After what could have only been a few seconds, I discerned yells of disgust coming from within, which got louder and louder as the occupants ran in the direction of fresh air. They came crashing out into the open, gasping for breath, and I only just managed to stopped my eyes from bugging out when I realised who they were.

"Well, well, well," I murmured, attempting to mimic the way Edward spoke—the dazzling purr that could only be described as velvet, "it is a small world, isn't it? I wasn't expecting to run into you three."

"B-Bella?" stuttered Blaise, the Slytherin whom had spent the entire sixth year scowling at me in the Slug-Club.

I smiled wickedly, revealing my threatening, snowy-white teeth.

Urquhart and Warrington, my old Quidditch rivals, were there, too. They all looked on fearfully as they took in my appearance. This couldn't be any more perfect.

"W-what are you doing here?" Warrington gulped, his face taking on a sickly, pallid tone.

"Well," I purred, gazing up from beneath my lashes, "I just wanted to thank you for the gift you left above our tent. I had no idea you were Stingers."

The three remained silent, their eyes shifting from me to Edward and Emmett, their expressions becoming even more terrified as they accessed the more intimidating pair.

Finally, Blaise seemed to find his voice, though it was a little higher than usual, "We d-didn't realise it was y-your tent."

"I don't find that difficult to believe," I nodded, knowing that the Slytherins would never have dared to perform such a prank on a group of vampires. "But now that you know," I said, taking a few step forwards, "I trust that we won't have to pay you another visit?"

They shook their heads vigorously in answer, their eyes wide and chests heaving with the rush of adrenaline.

"Good. Now, I think you should crawl back into your smelly, little hole. It's much safer in there than it is for you out here."

I'm sure they wanted nothing more than to follow my advice, but they were each frozen with terror, unable to move their limbs as they stared into the eyes of what they believed to be a blood-thirsty predator.

That was when I used my tongue to peel the Jungle-Jelly from the roof of my mouth. I swallowed it without chewing and, in the next instant, released a deafening, primal roar. The three boys screamed in horror, stumbling backwards in their attempts to flee.

"Quick!" Urquhart screamed, pushing Blaise back into the putrid tent, which I'm sure was definitely preferable to being outside with me at that point, as far as they were concerned at least.

The second they had disappeared inside, a chorus of laughter filled the air. Emmett was on his knees, shaking silently, whilst the others clutched their stomachs, laughing hysterically. Tears were rolling down Seamus and Ron's faces, and once they had regained some measure of control, they began cheering loudly, clapping their appreciation. Edward, too, was having difficulty containing his amusement. He gently grasped my hand and pulled me to him, lifting me off the ground so that my legs were secured around his waist.

"How did you do that?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with awe.

"Do what?"

"Roar. You sounded like a tiger or something!"

"It was one of those Jungle-Jellies that Rosalie bought me at Uluru. They're pretty impressive, aren't they?"

"Everything about that was impressive," he murmured, his lips pressing against my jaw. "That was actually very sexy, Bella."

I blushed profusely. It wasn't very often I heard that particular word applied to me. Usually, Edward's description ranged from 'beautiful' to 'exquisite', but 'sexy' hadn't exactly been popular in early twentieth century vocabulary; plus, I could hardly think of myself as such, so I couldn't expect someone as stunning as Edward to either. The fact that he had said it whilst I was wearing my vampire disguise only fuelled my desire for his venom.

"That was brilliant, Bella!" Ginny giggled.

"It was more than brilliant," Jasper said, "you scared them witless."

"You should have heard their heartbeats," Edward grinned.

"I don't think they could be described as beats," smirked Emmett. "They were a little fast for that. Maybe 'hum' is a more fitting word."

I laughed as Edward lowered me back to the ground, knowing that this would be one of those times that I desperately wanted to have engraved upon my memory for the rest of eternity. There were few sounds as beautiful to my ears as Blaise's girly squeals.

As we walked back to our spot, I transfigured my eyes back to their natural colour, along with my skin. Already the sun was beginning to slink behind the trees; the day was passing so quickly. We all spent the rest of the lead-up in the main room of the Cullen tent. Luna and Neville joined us, too, much to Emmett's delight. He found Luna even more entertaining than he did me, and was fascinated by her eccentricities.

Edward and I had a competition to find out who could produce the loudest and most impressive roar. Shivers ran down my spine every time he unleashed the feral sound. I knew it should have triggered some kind of natural fear, but it didn't; whatever instincts for self-preservation I may have had, they were completely overshadowed by an overt physical attraction—a bodily magnetism that was practically impossible to resist. Battling the pull was like trying to wade against the current of surging mountain rapids. The only thing that kept me from launching myself at him was the fact that we were situated in a roomful of people. The look in his eyes made me believe that he was thinking the same.

Finally, however, Mr Weasley announced that it was time to make our way over to the pitch, which gave me a good distraction from the fire that had been building in the pit of my stomach.

It took us at least twenty minutes to reach the destination point: we had to first trek through the forest and over a towering hill. The Cullens weren't the only ones who gasped when they saw the sight after we reached the peak. I, also, was astounded by the spectacle. We found ourselves looking out onto a vast tree-covered basin, in the middle of which stood a colossal oval stadium. In terms of height, it didn't rise that far above the ground, for it descended deep into the earth instead, meaning that the sides were almost totally vertical.

"My God," Carlisle murmured.

"How many does it seat?" Rosalie asked, as gobsmacked as her father.

"One hundred and seventy thousand," said Mr Weasley, who was bobbing on his toes. "The Australians have outdone themselves this time. They had it finished in fourteen months, and they only had two hundred more workers than we did four years ago. Pretty impressive, considering our stadium held seventy thousand less and took twelve months to make."

"How many workers did you use?" Esme questioned softly.

"About five hundred."

Carlisle's eyes bulged at Mr Weasley's blasé tone.

"Right, come on kids!" We followed Mr Weasley until we reached the stadium.

It was just as incredible from the outside as it was on the inside. The walls were made of silver and blue gold, and there were lines of sapphires lining each entrance. A wizard checked our tickets just as we passed beneath one of the jewel encrusted archways and pointed us in the direction of our seats. Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys weren't seated directly next to us; they were by the Hogwarts staff, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a bunch of other very important looking officials about ten places away. To our right were Seamus and Dean; to our left, were Wood, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.

Each seat came with a blue silk-covered programme. In addition, there were silver buckets built into the end of the cushioned arm rest, which held an assortment of things, including different kinds of candy and magical omnioculars.

"I love executive seats!" cried Seamus as he rummaged through the bucket and pulled out a Caramel Snake. He jerked as it slithered up his arm and over his neck, creeping over his skin until its head was directly in front of his lips. He chuckled, before opening his mouth and allowing the golden candy reptile to wriggle inside.

The Australians had been kind enough to accommodate the Cullens with a selection of blood-flavoured candies. There were even slow-melting scarlet popsicles, which each of the vampires began sucking furiously.

"You know … these actually feel pretty icy to me," Edward beamed. "No wonder they're slow melting. I wonder what temperature they are."

"Precisely one hundred degrees above absolute zero," said an unfamiliar voice from behind.

I spun and saw a man dressed in emerald robes with gold trim. I estimated that he was roughly in his mid-forties. He had wavy blond hair that fell to his shoulders, and although his attire covered his frame, it wasn't difficult to make out that he was in good shape.

"Felix Dodger," he said, holding out his hand to Edward, who took it without hesitating, "Head of Department of Games and Sports of the Australian Ministry for Magic. It's a pleasure to meet you; you must be the Cullens."

"Err … yes." Edward looked at the man questioningly.

"Oh, don't worry, mate," smiled Felix, "I made a point of memorising the seating plan for the executive box, since this is where I'll be spending the evening. How's the lollies?"

"Very nice, thank you."

"Excellent! We weren't sure what to order when we were told to expect a family of vamps. I had one of the blokes in the Ministry make a trip to _Lollipockets _in Uluru to ask the owner for advice. He suggested blood-flavoured lollipops, but it seemed a bit of a shame to supply you with only one kind of candy when us humans have so much more to pick from."

"No, the lollies are lovely," Esme said sincerely. "We'd never been able to have candy until we came here."

"But you like the frozen ones?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Well, that's a relief. We had to have them specially made—enlisted the help of a vampire to help us figure out if we'd got the right temperature. He's an alright fella—bit of a bushie usually, but we caught him ten clicks outside of Sydney. He's friendly enough, though. Lives off dragon's blood, which reminds me—" he signalled a gangly young wizard standing beside a silver trolley a little way away—"Derek, could we have the billy, please?"

The man, who was dressed in bright blue robes, began walking briskly towards us, pushing the trolley all the while. He reached for a large china teapot, but Felix beat him to it.

"That's alright, Derek; I'll do it." He took hold of his wand and gave a swift flick, conjuring seven china teacups and matching saucers. The peculiar man then proceeded to tip the teapot's contents into each cup. I bit back a giggle as the red steaming liquid poured from the sprout. I would never have imagined that vampires could dine in such a sophisticated manner; it seemed slightly absurd for creatures that were used to taking their meals raw.

"We were told you prefer it warm?" The inflexion in Felix's statement suggested that it had been more of a question. I noticed his posture relaxing slightly as the Cullens nodded in thanks. "Good, good."

He waved his wand once more, causing the tea-cups to float through the air, one to each vampire. He then asked how old I was. I told him that I was eighteen, and he immediately reacted by handing me a glass of strong-smelling stuff which he had taken from the trolley. I sniffed at it tentatively.

"So, what's a bunch o' Yankees doing mingling with the Pommies?" Felix nodded his head along the line of students, smiling mischievously as he did so.

"Bella," Edward chuckled, his hand finding mine, evidently amused by the Australian's cheeky manner, "is a pupil at Hogwarts. She moved to England with her mother when she was young."

"Ah, I see. Were you a member of Dumbledore's Army, Miss?"

"Yes," I said, surprised. "How do you know about Dumbledore's Army?"

He laughed loudly at that, "Who doesn't know about it? The entire world has heard of that particular group of rebels! Every wizarding paper across the globe was reporting news about the DA and the Order of the Phoenix after the downfall of … well, you know. Good onya—that's all I can say.

"Anyways, I'd better be off. That's Agono Joybelle, over there," he said, pointing to a cheerful-looking man in orange robes. I recognised the name—it belonged to the British Head of Department of Games and Sports, the same man who had sent us the tickets. "He'll be wanting a word. It was very nice to meet you all. Hooroo!"

And off he skipped, before we even had the chance to say goodbye.

"Felix Dodger …" said Wood, who had clearly been listening in, "he used to be the Seeker for the Woollongong Warriors. He was the best in the world at one time. In fact, he was so good that the Beaters in almost every team used to spend the match focusing entirely on him, always trying to knock him off his broom and always failing. He was too agile for them, and whilst they were preoccupied with him, the Warrior Chasers kept putting the Quaffle through the hoops. It's no wonder really that they constantly dominated the Australian League whilst he was with them. They were gutted when he retired."

I turned my head to find the man of topic, and felt my brow furrow as examined him. He certainly didn't look like a Seeker. He was too bulky—too tall and muscular; he should have been an easy target for Bludgers.

Whilst I continued my pondering, I absently took a sip of the amber substance in my hand. The second I swallowed, I began coughing heavily. I hadn't expected the wave of heat that had hit the back of my throat. It was the kind of burn that could only be attributed to Fire Whiskey. I had never tried it previously, but I knew from Seamus' descriptions exactly what it tasted like: warmth began building in my stomach, and slowly spread through my entire system, filling me with a strange confidence.

I quickly took another sip, this time savouring the sensation as the liquid passed over my tongue.

My eyes flicked back to the Cullens, and I couldn't help but shake with silent laughter as I caught sight of Jasper. He was holding his saucer and lifting the teacup to his lips. With his perfect posture and graceful movements, he looked more like a proper English toff than the ravenous vampire who had once tried to kill me.

"What's so funny, Bella?" he asked without turning his head, clearly having picked up on my mood.

"Oh, nothing," I answered steadily, "I was just thinking that you remind me of Vivian Ward."

In my periphery, I noticed Alice, Rosalie, Esme, and Carlisle jerk in their chairs. When I turned my head, I saw that they were laughing into their cups, whilst the Cullen boys looked puzzled. Edward turned his head to look at others, after which he, too, began shaking with silent laughter.

"Who's Vivian Ward?" asked Emmett.

"You know … she's played by Julia Roberts—the streetwalker that becomes a respectable female."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Jasper's eyes turned incredulous and he shouted, "You're comparing me to _Pretty Woman_?!"

"Would you prefer _My Fair Lady_?"

Emmett's amusement was far less subtle than that of the others; it was exceedingly loud and attracted curious glances from those sat nearby.

Jasper sniffed and quickly turned his head away from me; then he brought the cup back to his lips and took another sip.

"Bella," he said calmly, "just because I have no desire to bite you at present, it doesn't mean that it's beyond me."

"That wouldn't be a very gentlemanly thing to do," I chuckled, unable to stop my lips from twitching into a smile. "I thought you were a refined vampire nowadays."

His mouth spread into a wide grin as he turned to look at me. He probably would have challenged my joke, only I think he was enjoying the idea of finally being in control of his thirst far too much for that.

"I am, aren't I?" he smirked.

"A _pretty_, refined vampire," Emmett mocked, "though I don't think you're a lady just yet. By all means, keep trying, though."

Jasper was about to retort, but he was distracted by the loud, jovial voice of Felix Dodger as it echoed across the stadium.

"Ladies and gentlemen … welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-third Quidditch World Cup! I know that tonight will be a night to remember, because, after all, this is Australia!"

Cheers and clapping exploded through the arena, and my heart suddenly began thumping faster and faster against my ribcage. Edward's head turned to me and he flashed the heavenly, crooked smile, thrilled, I presumed, with my happiness. He brought the hand he was holding to his lips, gently kissing the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine. Though it seemed impossible, my heartbeat accelerated further in my chest. I turned my head just in time to see the gigantic board advertising Bottecotti's Opraline switch so that it read NEW ZEALAND: 0, SOUTH AFRICA: 0.

"Now, please, put your hands together … for the New Zealand team mascots!"

The left hand side of the stadium—the section resembling an excited sea of blue—was packed with upstanding witches and wizard, almost all of whom seemed to be screaming and jumping madly in their anticipation.

The second Felix fell quiet, loud, vivacious music began blaring across the stadium, welcoming the flares of colour that came shooting overhead. At first, I thought they must have been fireworks of some sort—smoky jets ranging from scarlet to indigo, like something you'd expect to see coming out of the back of a Red Arrow aerobatic plane—but when I peered through the omnioculars with which I had been supplied, I saw that there were actual people riding the rainbow, all of whom were carrying long, silver poles. They raised them into the air in unison, unfurling an army of enormous flags bearing the New Zealand design, thereby earning another surge of cheers.

The second the blues, reds and whites began blowing in the wind, the rainbow steams morphed into the most incredible animals, though they didn't appear completely substantial. There were red, fearsome oxen which went stampeding through the air, not seeming to bother themselves with the fact that they were wingless. Enormous orange, misty tigers went charging beside them. Next to those was a flock of brilliant yellow phoenixes, each the size of a baby elephant. Then there were wonderful, emerald dragons, sapphire orcas, indigo stallions, and, lastly, violet wolves.

"Totems!" I cried, dropping the omnioculars from my face.

"Totems …" said Carlisle, "as in animal spirits?"

I nodded, "They can change their shape and substance in order to blend in with nature. That's why some people believe they created the world. They think that every tree and mountain has a spirit … or _is_ a spirit."

When the Totems had circled the arena, they released a series of noises all at once, forming a song that was both haunting and inspiring in the same moment. Amongst the sounds, I distinguished the cry of the orcas, the roar of the tigers, and the howling of the wolves.

They all swooped down together towards the pitch, never slowing once, even when their riders swung their legs to jump off. The moment the animals were free, they separated and flew off in different directions, some shooting upwards, others keeping close to the ground. Then, without warning, they exploded into new shapes, though their colours remained just as rich and wonderful.

I stared in amazement at the scene below me: it was like a miniature version of some beautiful New Zealand setting—a tiny paradise comprised of a stunning lake; misty clouds that hovered halfway up the snow-capped, indigo mountains; thick emerald grass scattered with flowers of every colour; and boulders, and tall leafy trees which filled out the empty spaces.

"Amazing," whispered Esme.

"It's beautiful," Rosalie sighed.

I, personally, was beyond words; all I knew was that I desperately wanted to visit the real thing, and as the song of the Totems continued, it was as if my soul was singing, too. I felt absolutely wonderful. Thoughts of the New Zealand team permeated my thoughts until, finally, my mind was so overwhelmed that I couldn't even remember the rival team's name.

"Um … who are they playing again?" I asked Edward.

He looked at me and blinked a few times, before managing to get out the words, "Err … South Africa?"

The other vampires, too, looked a little unsure, and although they didn't seem to be as greatly influence by Totem magic as the rest of us, it definitely seemed to affect them.

"Oh … where's that?"

"It's in New Zealand," Wood said absently.

"No, I … I think it's in Africa." A furrow appeared between Edward's eyes and he began shaking his head vigorously, as if there was something lodged inside his skull that had no right in being there. "Yes, I'm sure it is! It's on the African continent."

"Ah, yes … I remember now."

In truth, I couldn't remember a thing. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I registered that I had heard of Africa before, but my previous knowledge of the country was eluding me.

The moment the Totems ended their song and soared towards the blue half of the stadium, it all came flooding back. Edward was right—South Africa was definitely not in New Zealand.

"Well, that was odd," he said.

"Odd?" Alice chuckled. "That's a bit of an understatement. When was the last time _you _ever forgot something, Edward?"

"About ninety years ago," he smirked.

"Now," cried Felix, regaining our attention, "please give it up for the South African team mascots!"

The right half of the arena went absolutely wild. When I looked through my omnioculars, they looked like they were screaming as if their lives depended on it. One man I caught sight of was chanting so loudly that he went blue in the face, and looked as if he was about to faint.

I turned my attention to the side of the stadium directly opposite the Cullens and I, because there, swarming over the entire southern side, was a thick wall of fast moving mist. It shimmered in the most incredible way, like some kind of visually enhanced, earth-bound nebula—fuchsia merging into purple, clashing with shocking cobalt and soft blues.

"What are they?" asked Jasper, who was now leaning forwards in his seat.

"Abatwa, I think," Carlisle murmured, his eyes trained on the cloud.

Something immediately clicked at the mentioning of the name: we had learnt about the Abatwa fairies in Care of Magical Creatures, though Hagrid had only really mentioned them in passing, giving us a vague outline of the regions they were found in and how to act if you came across one.

I peered through my omnioculars at the spreading haze and, sure enough, Carlisle was right. Millions and millions of tiny, little people were flying through the air, seated on the back of beautifully coloured insects.

"They come from Zulu mythology, though I don't think I can really use that word anymore."

"Seriously, Carlisle," Rosalie laughed, "the only thing that can be described as mythical anymore is the meaning of the word 'mythical' … if that makes any sense at all."

"I don't think it does," he smirked, "but I understand what you're saying, strangely enough."

The Abatwa fairies were well synchronised in their performance. They all worked together to form the most incredible images, ranging from the flag of their country to giant 3D portrayals of African dancers, all of which moved to the beat of the music across the length of the pitch.

"That was good," Alice sang, clapping her hands in appreciation, "but I think I prefer the Totems."

"I wouldn't say that just yet," I smirked, having a fairly good idea what was coming next.

She looked at me questioningly, her expression slightly irritated. Alice had remained true to her word and had not 'glimpsed' any further than our last day in Burleigh Heads. Although I was having fun watching her experience constant surprise, she was clearly frustrated with the idea of not knowing what the future had in store.

When the fairy dance was over, the image transformed into that of an enormous bow and arrow, which soared around the edge of the arena. The string gradually pulled back, finally releasing and shooting the missile forth. Before realised what was happening, millions of tiny diamonds began descending like rain. It had to have been the most expensive and beautiful hailstorm in history.

"ARE THOSE WHAT I THINK THEY ARE?!" Alice screamed manically.

"DIAMONDS!" Rosalie squealed, her hands furiously snatching at the falling jewels.

Immediately, the others began repeating the same movements, hoping to bag has many of the precious stones as possible. Emmett ended up lifting his shirt half way up his torso, using it as he would a net. Luckily, I managed to catch one diamond as it fell through the air, which was more than enough for me.

"WOOH!" Seamus cried as he examined the few stones he had gained.

The Cullens, thanks to their incredible eyesight and reflexes, collectively ended up with one hundred and fifty-six diamonds.

"I wouldn't get excited," Angelina sighed, unable to tear her eyes away from her captures. "They're probably exactly the same as Leprechaun gold. I bet they'll all have disappeared in an hour."

"They won't," I said confidently, earning hopeful glances from those surrounding me. "Abatwa diamonds are real enough. In fact, they're the most valuable diamonds in the world, since they have very few impurities.

"The fairy-folk cut them to shape and use them to distract Muggles who get too close, so that they can fly away. Then, when the Muggles are asleep or looking in the opposite direction, they sneak in and steal them back. According to Hagrid, that evolved into a new tradition. When the Abatwa king or queen begins entering the final stages of their lives, they order millions of diamonds to be scattered over the land; then, after three months, the fairy people separate to go and hunt down the diamonds. They're said to have a sixth sense for locating them, meaning that they can track them to wherever they've been shipped, even if that happens to be on the opposite side of the world. They can always recognise their own stuff, as well, so they can't cheat. The male and female that retrieve the most diamonds become the heirs to the throne, which is why only unmarried Abatwa are allowed to compete.

"Of course, the fact that the diamonds vanish without warning means that they can't be traded in the wizarding world. Paying for them is far too risky. Depending on your conscience, you could always consider selling them to Muggles. Or you could just enjoy them whilst you have them."

Angelina smiled widely, then, "I guess that doesn't sound so bad. How long do you think we have?"

"Three months at the least," I shrugged.

"Brilliant!"

"I LOVE THE ABATWA!" Alice cried blissfully, loading the diamonds into her pocket. "They probably won't even try to reclaim them from us … not if they're like most beings and creatures."

"That depends on how much they want to rule," I laughed.

The colourful fairy cloud moved off to the side of the pitch, then, satisfied that they had turned a suitable portion of the formerly neutral spectators.

"Long live Africa!" I heard Ron shout. He was leaning over the railing, waving his arms like a crazy person.

"And now," cried the magically magnified voice of Felix Dodger, "please put your wands in the air for New Zealand's National Quidditch team! Presenting … Lawrence! A figure in sapphire Quidditch robes came shooting out from the sheltered corridor far below. The entire thing was so fast that the man looked like nothing more than a streak of blue. The left half of the stadium went wild.

"Bray!"

The next flash of blue shot into the air.

"Coby! Harkom! Hardy! Esplin! Aaaaaaaaand Swift!"

"There he is!" screamed Wood. "That's him! That's Swift!"

In his excitement, Wood clutched at the shirt covering Emmett's left shoulder and began shaking it vigorously. Emmett didn't seem to notice; he, too, was yelling in exhilaration.

Now that the entire New Zealand team was up in the air, they all circled the arena, each performing the most incredible acrobatics. Swift rocketed through the air like a bullet, and once he had succeeded in reaching the Firebolt's full velocity, he pulled the broom out from under himself and flipped forwards into a tumbling somersault, spinning like a Catherine-wheel until he was no more than twenty feet above the ground, which was when he stuffed the broom back between his legs and fired upwards.

I barely registered that I was screaming, now, as well; but the sound of Edward's loud laughter brought me back to my senses. I couldn't help but blush.

"Err … dude?" I heard Emmett say when the team's performance had ended.

"Oh, sorry," Wood apologised, ceasing his grip on the burly vampire.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly greet the South African National Quidditch team! I give you … Marx!"

Out soared the first player, in robes of black and gold to a deafening applause. He, too, was riding a Firebolt, which, I suppose, was only to be expected considering that this was the final and the model had been on the market for years.

"Symes! Yzelle! Zweig! Marik! Vosloo! Aaaaaaaaand Vivier!"

The South Africans shot around the stadium like seven missiles. They flew so close to the stands that they were almost in reaching distance when they passed. If I had extended my arm and leaned as far forwards as was possible without falling, they would easily have taken my arm off with the speed at which they flew.

Their display was outstanding—perfectly coordinated in every way. They moved with the agility and precision of fighter jets: perhaps they had taken some of their inspiration from Muggle air force displays. Their moves were certainly less extravagant than those of their rivals, but that didn't mean they were less impressive. The South Africans performed a united hammerhead, flying upwards in a vertical ascent, before shooting back down in a parallel line. The entire thing was perfect, instantly conveying the impression of strength and effortlessness.

Perhaps I had been wrong to think that New Zealand could win. South Africa was by far the more intimidating side. Their supporters certainly seemed to think so; they were screaming their hearts out, as far as I could tell.

"And, finally, please welcome back to the World Cup … acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch—our referee—Hassan Mostafa!"

A tiny, scrawny wizard with a bald head and moustache came walking onto the pitch to a round of applause. He was garbed in robes of silver, carrying a broom under one arm and a wooden chest under the other. I felt my breathing pick up and my heartbeat accelerate like a war drum as he neared the centre.

This was it! It was about to start—the event that had dominated my thoughts for the last week!

One of my hands clutched Edward's, whilst the other held my omnioculars. I shuffled to the edge of my seat, unable to keep myself still.

In the next second, Mostafa mounted his broom, his head snapping up in our general direction, before he gave a sharp nod.

"AND NOW," bellowed Felix, "LET THE FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THIRD QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP FINAL … BEGIN!"

Mostafa kicked the crate open, the four balls bursting upwards into the air, before he kicked off from the ground and shot off after them, the sound of his whistle ringing across the pitch.

And so it began.

**A/N: I hope you like it! I was going to try and fit the match into the chapter, but considering how long it already is, I figured I should leave it for the next one. Besides, it's been too long since I updated.**

**Feel free to place your bets. ;D xxx**


	9. Fairytale Endings

**A/N: Don't worry; despite the title, this is **_**not **_**the end of the story. Thought I'd mention that at the very start. And I know you're all eager for Hogwarts, but I promise that stuff is imminent. The Harry Potter characters will have more involvement in the coming chapters. Hope you enjoy this one.**

"THEY'RE OFF!" Felix screamed. "Symes seizes the Quaffle. Passes to Zweig. Back to Symes. Now Yzelle. Into the hawkshead attacking formation—"

The South African Chasers streaked together across the pitch like a giant arrow, the New Zealand team flying after them.

"COME ON!" Alice screamed hysterically. "COME ON!"

"Yzelle scores!"

"YEEEEAH!" Alice and Rosalie cried together, both of them jumping up in the same moment as the thousands of others.

"You two," I shouted, "I thought you were supporting New Zealand!"

"Diamonds, Bella," Rosalie answered, as if that should explain everything.

I rolled my eyes, whilst Edward shook his head disbelievingly.

"New Zealand take possession," said Felix. "Bray. Harkom. Coby. Back to Harkom. And—ooooh, he drops the Quaffle. A very good aim there by Vosloo."

Luckily, the Bludger hadn't connected with its intended target—Bray had swerved out of the way just in time, but in doing so he had lost his hold on the ball, and it was quickly intercepted by the South Africans.

"Zweig in possession. She passes to Yzelle. Back to Zweig. Now Symes. Can he make it past Lawrence? He shoots—HE SCORES! A magnificent goal, there, by Isaac Symes!"

I groaned. We were only two minutes into the game and already I was regretting my choice of side. Perhaps this was one team that not even New Zealand would be able to compete with.

By the time the South Africans had scored their forth goal, I had my head in my palms. As of yet, their rivals had failed to put the Quaffle through the hoop even once. The Abatwa fairies kept rearranging themselves so that they formed the words 'we rule' before switching to 'you drool'.

"Symes takes the Quaffle once again. Over to Yzelle. Back to Zweig. Yzelle. Will this be another goal for South Africa?"

My heart was pounding as the New Zealand Chasers raced ahead of the South Africans. Bray flew in from the left, Coby streaked beneath them, and Harkom came in from the right. When they were about twenty metres ahead, they all simultaneously flipped back on themselves in one mind-boggling manoeuvre, and rocketed back towards the opposition. If I was gobsmacked by the move, it was nothing in comparison the South African Chasers' reactions: they were completely taken off-guard by the sudden offensive shift, and scattered automatically just as the New Zealanders swerved.

"Yzelle drops the Quaffle!" Felix shouted. "Coby takes it! Over to Harkom. Back to Coby. Now Bray. Here's the first test for the South African Keeper … Bray fires—HE SCORES!"

"YEEESSSSS!" I cheered, shooting to my feet.

The boys were reacting just as excitedly as me, especially Jasper who was screaming like a maniac. I guess he couldn't help himself—not when he had the delight of approximately eighty-five thousand people to deal with.

"The South African's aren't happy," Edward chuckled. He pointed to Vosloo and Symes, both of whom were arguing with the referee.

"What are they saying?"

"Vosloo is accusing the South Africans of blatching."

"What's blatching?" asked Esme.

"Flying with the intent to collide; it's a type of foul," I explained.

"Mostafa isn't agreeing though," he continued, "because the New Zealanders pulled out at the last minute. It was never their intention to hit the other Chasers. They just wanted to make them think it was."

The referee was getting angry—Vosloo and Symes had now been joined by Marik, Yzelle, and Zweig, all demanding that he disallow the goal. Mostafa, whose face was turning a nasty shade of puce, angrily blew his whistle, officially ending the argument.

"The point is allowed," called Felix, "and the Quaffle is back in play!"

He continued his commentary as the South Africans handled the ball. Just as Yzelle was about to launch the Quaffle towards the hoops, however, Esplin struck a Bludger at him, cracking him directly on the wrist.

"Yzelle drops the Quaffle, after that sensational hit by Arika Esplin! Now Bray has the ball. Over to Coby, who dodges Symes. Coming up close to the scoring area now, and… NEW ZEALAND SCORE!"

The crowds instantly went wild.

"THIS IS AWESOME!" Emmett bellowed, causing my cheering to morph into happy laughter. "I LOVE QUIDDITCH!"

"It looks like something's amiss with Yzelle," Felix said once the crowd had died down. His voice never lost its cheerfulness, though. I turned my omnioculars to the South African Chaser. He had descended onto the pitch and was cradling his wrist, his expression slightly twisted as a result of the pain Esplin's swing had inflicted.

"His wrist is broken," Carlisle said incredulously. "Does that happen often, Bella?"

"Sure," I shrugged, "Quidditch is a rough game."

"How many bones have you had broken?"

I cast my mind back to the Hogwarts matches, and said, "Three toes, two fingers, my left arm … and I once fractured my elbow."

Edward's eyebrows knitted together at my revelation. Although I was physically fine at present, the mere idea of me being in pain was disturbing for him. I could see that in his eyes.

A spindly man with flaming, red hair went rushing out to meet the injured player. He pointed his wand at his broken wrist, and within a matter of seconds, he was running back the way he had come. Yzelle, his wrist now mended, kicked off from the ground and soared back into the air.

After Esplin's hit, the South African's seemed to up their game. Marik, in his efforts to prevent Harkom from reaching the scoring area, hit the Chaser hard on the shoulder with his bat, much to the outrage of the New Zealand supporters. The second Harkom dropped the Quaffle, it was intercepted by Symes, who rocketed off down the field. He didn't get very far, though, because the referee blew his whistle and recalled the Quaffle. The South Africans tried to object when their rivals were given a penalty, but Mostafa refused to entertain the idea that Marik's hit had been accidental.

"There's no way that was a mistake," said Edward, his eyes on the South African Beater. "His only regret was that he didn't hit Harkom harder."

"Harkom gets ready to take the shot. The pressure's on now for Christian Marx. Will he make the save? Aaaaaand … MARX MISSES!"

"HELL YEEEEESSSS!" cheered Emmett. "Come on New Zealand!"

He stuffed his popsicle back into his mouth, whilst the witches and wizards continued their celebratory applause.

Throughout the next hour, the two teams were practically neck and neck. Although the South Africans seemed to work better together offensively than the New Zealanders, as predicted, their defence left something to be desired, and they seemed to rely completely on the Beaters whenever the New Zealanders gained possession of the Quaffle. Luckily, Hardy and Esplin were good at shielding the other players from Bludgers.

"And Zweig is coming up to the—SWIFT CATCHES SIGHT OF THE SNITCH! He's diving! Vivier comes in after him…"

"I don't see it!" I called frantically. "Where's the snitch? I don't see it!"

It's on the other side of the pitch," Jasper answered confusedly.

"He's feinting!" cried Emmett.

My eyes locked with Vivier. He was firing downwards like a commet, in search of something that he couldn't see—something that wasn't even there.

"Swift pulls up, and—oooooh, that must have hurt—Lucas Vivier falls for the Wronski Feint!"

Vivier was laid out on the grass, his face contorted with pain as he awaited the mediwizards. Once again, it didn't take them long to complete their work.

"And Swift's distraction seems to have done the trick because New Zealand is back in possession! Bray has the Quaffle, and passes to Coby. The South African Chasers go to head them off. Can they—whooooooooa!"

"Holy Jollybean!" I squealed, pouncing to my feet in the same moment as Wood, Angelina, and Katie. "No way!"

My old Quidditch buddies and I may as well have been at a Weird Sisters' concert, because we were squealing like a bunch of lovesick school girls as the New Zealanders rocketed past us, executing a move I had never seen before. Whilst Coby flew in a straight line, the other Chasers kept circling around her to confuse the opposition and shield her against any possible tackle. The two beaters flew in front and behind, ready to defend the players against well-aimed bludgers.

"What a superb new move! I give you … the COBY CORKSCREW, ladies and gentlemen!"

"OH MY GOD!" screamed Wood fanatically, "OH MY GOD!"

The South Africans had no idea how to react. They'd never have been able to make it past the other players to reach Coby, for she was shielded on all sides. At the last possible moment, the players scattered, leaving the way clear for the Chaser. She shot into the scoring area, pulled back her arm, and launched the Quaffle through the left-most hoop.

"Another point to New Zealand! They're only ten points behind the South Africans now! This really is anyone's game!"

The roar of the tiger totem sounded through the stadium, filling me with an incredible feeling of warmth, reinforcing my support for the New Zealand team. It must have affected the South Africans too, because Yzelle's next swing looked a little half-hearted.

"Ooooh, an easy catch there for Gabriel Lawrence. Never mind, Yzelle. Maybe nex—VIVIER'S AFTER THE SNITCH!" Felix screamed suddenly. "THERE IT IS! THIS IS NO FEINT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

"I see it!" I shouted, barely registering the dryness at the back of my throat as I stared through my omnioculars. "There's the Snitch!"

The other players stopped their game as they watched Swift and Vivier race across the arena like two oversized bullets.

"THEY'RE NECK AND NECK!" screamed Felix excitedly, as the two Seekers raced close to the ground.

When they were only metres away, both reaching for the tiny golden ball, the Snitch suddenly changed direction, and shot backwards over their heads. Vivier didn't react quickly enough: he continued shooting forwards, and by the time he'd pulled into his wide u-turn, it was too late. Swift had changed direction immediately, flipping backwards like Coby, Harkom and Bray had earlier when they had cut off the South African Chasers.

Vivier did everything in his power to close the distance, but he couldn't push the broom hard enough, because with fierce determination and unerring skill, Swift swiped his arm through the air in one blindingly fast move, and closed his fingers around New Zealand's victory.

"HE DID IT!" cried the Games Master. "HE DID IT!"

The stadium exploded into a symphony of shouts, cheers, and song. Completely overcome by the elation and joy of the moment, I launched myself at Edward with all the speed I could muster. He caught me easily and swung me round, evidently just as thrilled with the success as me.

"Acton Swift catches the Snitch," continued Felix, "leaving the score at three hundred and seventy points to New Zealand, and two hundred and thirty to South Africa! NEW ZEALAND WIN THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!"

"YES!" boomed Emmett, prodding Alice hard on the shoulder. "You lose, little freak! You lose!"

"Never thought I'd see the day," Jasper laughed, ruffling his wife's hair.

"We should have made bets," Emmett said, shaking his head.

"I think the sheer satisfaction of beating Alice is enough," stated Edward.

Alice stuck her tongue out at her brothers and husband, but she couldn't keep from smiling. The excitement of the game was too overwhelming, even for her.

Wood was locked in an embrace with Angelina and Katie; he draped his arms over their shoulders, his eyes filled with unashamed tears as he looked out onto the pitch where the New Zealand team were colliding in hugs of absolute joy, all desperate to congratulate their team-mates and celebrate their monumental win.

The South Africans looked understandably dejected as they landed; nevertheless, they humbly shook hands with the winning players, before they left the pitch, flying upwards in our direction to enter the box, where Australia's, New Zealand's and South Africa's Ministers for Magic were awaiting them.

New Zealand's national anthem could be heard throughout the stadium as the team completed their victory lap, followed closely by the rainbow totems, who kept their sacred song in time with the fans' chanting. When the players had made a full circuit, they joined the other team further along our box.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, would you please put your hands together for our runners up … the South African National Quidditch Team!"

He called their names as they individually stepped forwards to receive their silver medals, which were placed around their necks by the Australian Minister.

"Christian Marx," said Felix, whilst the crowd clapped appreciatively, "the South African team Keeper. Next we have the three Chasers: Isaac Symes, Dominique Yzelle, and Lerato Zweig, each of whom did a fantastic job out on the field today. Next, the Beaters, Tumelo Marik and Demarco Vosloo. And, finally, please give a round of applause for the South African Seeker, Lucas Vivier!"

Vivier's expression was more forlorn than any of the other team members; I suppose he felt bad for failing to catch the Snitch after his comrades had done so well.

Then, Felix turned his attention to the New Zealanders, all of whom were grinning madly, like their faces had been frozen so that they would have to spend eternity smiling. If that had been the case, I don't think they would have minded so much.

"And, now, please put your hands together for our champions … New Zealand's National Quidditch Team!"

The stadium exploded with thunderous applause as the Minister placed the first gold medal over the Keeper's neck.

"Gabriel Lawrence! The Chasers: Carter Bray, Eleanor Coby, and James Harkom! Next, the Beaters: Darwin Hardy, and Arika Esplin! And last, but certainly not least, New Zealand's captain and Seeker, Acton Swift!"

When the last medal had been given, the Cup was finally brought forth and passed to Swift, who raised it into the air to a tulmult of cheers and screams. I clapped so hard that I almost thought my hands would shatter, and all across the colossal stadium, flags of blue, white and red were waving to rejoice the victory of the Australian neighbours.

The Cup was passed along the line of players—everyone wanted to touch it—before it was handed to New Zealand's Minister whilst the team completed another celebratory lap. The witches and wizards filling the boxes shot flowers from the tips of their wands as the players passed, showering them with thousands of red roses, creating a stark contrast as they fell upon the green grass of the pitch.

"That was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. The World Series will never be the same after this," laughed Emmett.

"World Series?" asked Seamus in puzzlement.

"Baseball," I said, hoping that he would be familiar with the term.

Dean smirked, provoking another confused look from Seamus.

"Baseball's for girls," he explained.

"What?!" cried Emmett. "No way, man! Baseball rules!"

"Come on, mate," laughed Dean, "all Baseball is—or Rounders, as we like to call it on our side of the pond—is trying to hit a ball far enough so you can make it round the pitch before the fielders can throw it back."

"Oh, that's right," sniggered Jasper, good humouredly, "you're the Soccer fanatic."

"Football fanatic," Dean corrected.

"The correct term is Soccer," said Emmett, agreeing with his brother.

"Sorry, mate, but since you lend the name 'Football' to a game where you spend a good portion of the time carrying the ball in your hands, I think I'll stick with the original term."

The friendly banter continued as we left the stadium. It was all innocent and playful enough, even when Emmett told Dean he was going to drink his blood. The threats made by the vampires' were becoming less effective, however; the teenage witches and wizards, though they knew exactly what the Cullens were, had developed too much trust in the short time they had known them. Despite the constant danger posed by the vampires, no one seemed to be able to accept the idea that they would ever hurt anyone. To those who had be present at the battle, the Cullens were friends—it was as simple as that—hence the reason why Dean couldn't take Emmett seriously when he made his teasing threats. He merely laughed, and punched him lightly on the arm, though the action itself may have caused him a little pain, much to the burly vampire's amusement.

"At the end of the day," smiled Seamus, "I think we can all agree that Muggle sports are no competition when it comes to Quidditch."

"Damn right," seconded Ron. "Did you see the Corkscrew? That was bloody sick. I s'pose you'll be trying that one out after we make the House team, eh, Bells?"

"I might not get in," I reminded him.

"Pfft, as if! If you don't make Gryffindor again this year, I'll adopt an acromantula."

"I'd rather you than me," laughed Rosalie. "Those things are horrid."

"Yeah," I smirked, "you should have heard Emmett's squeals."

"I did _not _squeal," he insisted. "They took me by surprise, that's all."

"Sounded like a squeal to me," Wood teased.

"Dude, I saved your life. You're supposed to back me up!"

"Oh, right … yes, of course—so stupid of me," he answered theatrically. "Ahem… Emmett does not squeal. He is mighty. He destroys giant spiders."

The New Zealanders were celebrating as we made our way through the camp. Fireworks were blasting overhead, creating dozens of wonderful images, including a giant Snitch and the national flag. My eyes were constantly on the sky as we travelled in the direction of our tent, which meant that I tripped every ten seconds. Eventually, Edward just lifted me off the floor, positioning me so that my legs were draped over his shoulders. I felt like some kind of toddler; still, I didn't protest.

Edward suddenly broke into soft chuckles, his head turning to Ron.

"I'm not sure he'd like that, considering he's used to taking on bears."

"Huh?" said Emmett, sensing that the topic of conversation had not yet changed.

"Yeah," said Ron, "but considering how big they are… "

"You don't really get that from the name though."

"What are you two going on about?" asked Ginny, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Ron is considering the possibilities of Emmett as a bodyguard. He's pondering the title of 'Spider-Slayer.'"

"It has potential," Ron smirked.

"I don't think there's any need to worry," Emmett laughed. "We officially exterminated your eight-legged friends."

Ron grinned widely, and was about to respond, only Seamus spoke before he could get the chance.

"You really are a mind-reader, aren't you?" he said, his eyes on Edward. "It was in _The Prophet,_ but I—"

"What?!" I blurted, completely and utterly shocked by the sudden revelation.

"Well … yeah," Seamus continued, "it was in the report they issued after the battle." I really did need to get around to reading that. "There was a bit in about you lot, and they seem to know about Edward's … abilities."

My eyes flicked to Ron. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead, but his ears were turning a deep shade of red. Finally, he turned to look Edward in the eye, but he didn't speak. I guessed that he was communicating silently. I leaned forward slightly so that I could peer at Edwards face, and realised that he was smiling. Perhaps he didn't mind others knowing of his abilities, as long as those people didn't fit into the category of 'normal' either.

"Don't worry about it," he said sincerely, much to Ron's relief.

"Must make things a bit awkward," Seamus mused. I should've expected him to say something like that; he never had been known for his tact.

"You get used to it," Emmett muttered, a little resentfully. "Luckily for Bella, _she _doesn't have to_."_

"Doesn't have to what?"

"Get used to it. Edward can't read her thoughts, with her knowing Occlumency and everything."

Harry's head snapped in my direction.

"You're an Occlumens?" he questioned disbelievingly.

I nodded, before recounting the story of why and how I had learnt the particular kind of magic. He and Hermione seemed rather impressed with my disclosure, and I soon discovered that Harry himself had once attempted to develop the skill, though he hadn't been quiet as successful.

"It's difficult at first," I agreed. "Once you've practiced long enough, though, you don't really have to think about it. I suppose it almost becomes something you do subconsciously. I'd probably have to concentrate to turn it off nowadays."

Edward froze abruptly, and I instantly realised my mistake. When he still hadn't moved after ten seconds of stillness, I began to worry. The others, too, stopped when they noticed that Edward had. Finally, he reached up and effortlessly lifted me from his shoulders to place me on my feet in front of him. His eyes were slightly glassy, yet his expression was no less intense.

"You could do that?" he whispered. "I… I thought that it was permanent magic."

"Permanent?" scoffed Hermione. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Um, I'm not sure. I just assumed."

"It only works as long as you're focused," Harry explained. "Turning it off isn't the problem; it's getting it to work in the first place."

Despite the fact that I considered him a good friend, I had never wanted to kick Harry more than I did in that moment.

Edward's eyes never left my face as we continued our walk through the maze of tents. Eventually, we reached our own, and bid the others goodnight. It was already half past eleven, and thanks to my restlessness the previous night, I didn't even have to feint tiredness.

I walked slowly up the stairs with Edward, unable to shake the sense of dread which the recent conversation had inspired. I knew what was coming, and I desperately wanted to avoid it.

"So what did you think of the match?" I asked as we entered his room. I walked over to the bed, jumping backwards onto the spongy comforter as I began tugging at my boots. "Did you remember the way the South Africans froze when—"

I knew it had been useless to try; there was no way to forestall the inevitable—Edward was far too curious for that.

"I can feel you, Edward… " I sighed, finding his eyes. His forehead creased at my words "… when you do that. I can feel you on the edges."

"What do you mean?"

"When you try to break into my mind, I can feel it. It feels like…"

"Like what?" he asked quietly, edging closer.

"I don't know how to explain it. It's like… like a worm" I admitted, apologetically. "Like something wriggling on the outskirts of my mind, trying to find a way inside. The sensation isn't … physical, as in … I can't feel it in that sense, but it creates a kind of mental discomfort, like I'm being attacked."

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Bella," he said hastily, closing the distance between us. His face was suddenly worried for some reason, almost like he was afraid he'd upset me in some way. "I just … want to know you."

"You do know me," I reminded him.

His expression had a wistful look about it as he made his reply; it was slightly heartbreaking.

"I do," he nodded, "but I can hear everybody else's mind when, really, the only one I'm interested in is yours. At one time, I thought I'd be able to break down your defences—to find a way inside—but I never could, and before long, I just accepted it as an impossibility. And, now, I find out that it's not and…"

He sighed and closed his eyes, his breathing a little uneven. When he finally lifted his lids to peer at me from beneath his lashes, his irises were filled with a silent plea, and I felt as if my heart would shatter into a thousand pieces if I were to refuse him; even then, I couldn't help the anxiety that overtook me when I considered the idea of exposing myself in such a way. To do so would virtually be the equivalent of stripping myself of all my clothes and wandering outside.

"Please," he begged in a whisper, "it's all I want. Please, Bella."

"I-I don't even know if I can," I said uncertainly. "I've been doing it for so long… "

"If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, but … let's just try."

This scene was horribly familiar, only this time, I was the reluctant party. Edward was employing my own tactics against me, and although I wanted to claim that they had little effect, I couldn't. I glanced at the silver pendulum wall-clock; it read twenty to twelve.

"I'll try," I said finally, my eyes flicking back to Edward's, "but it isn't permanent. I still want to practice Occlumency."

"I wouldn't want you to give it up," he insisted, his thoughts more than likely flying to the Volturi and their formidable gifts.

"Alright," I answered softly, inhaling a steady breath, "you have until midnight… and then the spell breaks."

He immediately lowered his head to kiss me, fully conveying every ounce of gratitude in the ensuing moments, before he gently moved me further up the bed so that we could lie down beside one another.

Once I was comfortable, my head resting against his chest whilst his arm wound around my waist, I turned my attention to lowering my mental defences. I could still feel the strange sensation at the edge of my mind, and concentrated on allowing the determined trespasser inside. It was just as difficult as I'd anticipated—like trying to wriggle out of a skin-tight cat suit made from PVC.

Suddenly, Edwards, mental prodding disappeared, and I figured that he'd withdrawn. Maybe he'd decided he didn't want to hear my thoughts, after all. I wouldn't have blamed him; he was probably afraid that listening would lead to the unavoidable disappointment. With my thoughts shielded, I was a mystery; with my thoughts revealed, on the other hand, he'd see that my mind was like every other boring teen's—simple and uninteresting.

Not like him. He was the very opposite of simple and uninteresting. He was brilliant, creative, thoughtful, not to mention smarter than Einstein; I didn't even want to think about how we differed physically. Doing so was almost painful. I still couldn't understand why someone so beautiful would choose someone like me. In terms of looks, I was excruciatingly unexceptional.

I turned my head to look at him, ready to apologise, but his expression stopped me. It was a mixture of incredulousness and vexation.

"Bella," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose as he always did when he was irritated. His eyes snapped open and his hand moved away from his face, the corners of his lips twitching slightly, as if he had just remembered something funny, before his expression became stony once again.

"I had… hoped… that you had stopped thinking like that a long time ago."

I stared at him confusedly for a moment, but then the understanding hit me like a tidal wave, instantly triggering a burning that spread from the base of my neck up to my cheeks.

_He can hear me… crap._

"That doesn't really cover it," he said. "The way you think of yourself… it's infuriating, Bella!"

He manoeuvred his body so that he was hovering over me. The motion was so quick, it was practically a blur. His eyes were smouldering, causing my pulse to accelerate rapidly as I looked into them. There could only have been a millimetre or so separating our bodies. I was quickly forgetting that my mind was open to him as I closed the distance between us.

There was nothing in the world that was better than kissing Edward. Everything about it was heavenly: from the luscious scent of his breath and skin, to the feel of his marble-hard lips on mine. It was like kissing a god—definitely an alluring pastime—my favourite pastime. Heaven help me if I should ever have to compile a list of hobbies. It would probably read:

_My name is_ _Bella Swan, and my favourite things to do include kissing Edward, watching Edward, kissing Edward, thinking of Edward, kissing Edward, dreaming of Edward, and, finally… kissing Edward._

He suddenly pulled back, a playful smile forming on his face.

"You really are addicted, aren't you?" he teased.

If possible, my face turned a deeper shade of tomato red.

"You're my brand of heroine," I shrugged.

He laughed loudly then, his expression dripping with satisfaction, and said, "I do believe I've heard that somewhere before."

And then we were kissing again, but it was more intense this time. Only when I was running out of air would Edward stop, moving down my neck until he reached my collarbone, where he would skim the tip of his nose, or his mouth, along the skin, before moving back up to kiss me again. We must have spent at least ten minutes doing that, and I couldn't help but think that Christmas had come early.

Of course, I couldn't stop my mind from flitting to the muscles hidden beneath his shirt as I ran my hands over his shoulder blades. Realising that Edward could hear every hormone driven thought coursing through my mind, I did my best not to think of those, but the harder I tried, the more abysmally I failed, and eventually I just resigned myself to the inevitable, savouring my delicious imaginings.

My body must have been hotwired to those pictures, because before I knew what I was doing, I was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off him, and he never moved to stop me. He simply complied with my wishes, releasing a low growl as my hands explored the contours of his torso. I thought about the power there—the absolute strength. That idea alone was enough to set my blood on fire, igniting an unshakeable hunger that had nothing whatsoever to do with my stomach.

I suddenly found myself being pulled up from my reclining position against the comforter, so that I was kneeling in his lap whilst he raised my arms and tugged my sequined top over my head. My heart began pumping faster as I inhaled shallow , uneven breaths. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the black, glitzy fabric hit the far wall. At one time I probably would have felt self-conscious at the mere concept of appearing in front of Edward in nothing but a pair of leggings and a silky black bra. I'd gotten over that, though, during the swimsuit episode. He seemed to have liked what he saw back then.

"More than liked," he corrected.

Despite the chill of his icy skin, I felt hot. I leaned backwards, allowing him to support my weight, relishing the way his hands snaked around my back as he kissed along my chest.

_Has he changed is mind?_

Suddenly, I tumbled against the springy comforter, the brace of his arms having vanished. When I looked up, I saw that he had fled to the other side of the room. He was stood facing me, his chest heaving as he inhaled deep, calming breaths. I moved swiftly to the edge of the bed, only just conscious of the way my body had coiled as if I preparing to spring, like some kind of predator.

A mischievous smile spread across Edward's face; evidently he found my thoughts entertaining.

"You have no idea," he said, his voice rugged yet velvety in the same moment.

He took a step closer, and I couldn't prevent my eyes from wandering downwards. He was literally the definition of perfection.

"I think you have us confused." He took another step towards me, his eyes mimicking mine as they travelled the length of me, seeming to linger longer in some places than others.

I realised then that we looked like some kind of Calvin Klein advert: Edward in his dark jeans, his hair stylishly messy; and me in my black, skin-tight leggings and a dark bra, my hair big and wavy, my eyes still black and smoky with the make-up I had applied earlier.

It was my turn to take a step closer, now. I wanted to be near him… like before.

"You have a dangerous mind, Bella," he smirked, stopping me in my tracks. "Beautiful, but dangerous. If everyone had my abilities, you'd intoxicate even the most sensible of men."

_I think it's _you _that has us confused, or do you not remember the effect you had on poor Mrs Cope, or Jessica, or the_ _waitress we met at the restaurant in Port Angeles?_

"I don't think you could class those as sensible," he answered, though he seemed to cringe at the memory.

"Still," I smirked, "I think I've proven my point."

He shook his head and closed the distance, lifting me back onto the bed. It was five minutes to midnight now; Edward's time was running out.

"I should ask some questions, then," he said as we arranged ourselves into a more relaxed position. "What were your thoughts when you first saw my family and I? You obviously knew what we were."

I cast my mind back; aside from being mesmerised by their impossible beauty, the dominant emotion had been fear. I knew what they were, but their eye colour had confused me greatly. Edward's hostile glares had terrified me at first, but even the possibility that he wanted to drink my blood hadn't been enough to expel my curiosity and thirst for knowledge. He had become an instant source of intrigue—a puzzle I desperately wanted to solve.

"What's your favourite memory?" he asked next.

_There are too many to pick from._

I went over my recollections—all those involving Edward—showing him them from my perspective, and describing how it had felt the first time he had kissed me. I also replayed for him the scene where I had received my first visit from McGonagall—the day I had discovered that I was a witch. I also took him through my memories of my first trip on the Hogwarts Express, along with the Sorting ceremony, and the words I had heard when the hat was placed on my head.

_A tricky one,_ it had said._ I sense all the qualities of three great houses: courage, wit, and loyalty. But which is your greatest? I think … "GRYFFINDOR!"_

"Naturally," Edward chuckled.

I showed him the Gryffindor Common Room where I had spent so many days and nights plotting with the boys. I showed him the day we had won the Quidditch Cup, remembering the way it had felt when the other students had lifted my team members and I into the air, carrying us back towards the school in celebration.

_That was a good day, _I thought, smiling widely.

"I'm sure it was," he said. "I only wish I could have been there to see it."

I sighed then, my eyes finding the silver clock. It was thirty seconds to midnight.

"You're not going to give me a little longer?"

_Just keeping you on your toes._

"Maybe that could be my Christmas present—a full day of no Occlumency."

_Hmm, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing… considering how far we came in only twenty minutes._

"You definitely have a one-track mind."

I blushed, and turned my attention to rebuilding my defences. It wasn't nearly as difficult as it had been to lower them. It felt natural and comfortable. In the last moment before the wriggling at the edge of my mind returned, I filled my thoughts with the three truest words that I knew.

_I love you._

And then my mind closed, the spell of the night ending with the last chime of the clock.

"I love you too," said Edward, leaning his head down to kiss me on the forehead. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, glad that he was happy.

"I still think that I should have been allowed more time. I'm fairly sure that Cinderella had longer than twenty minutes."

"True, but the magic always ends at midnight."

"Only in the stories," he pointed out.

I smiled, "Do you not remember what Bertie Bigwig said about us—the Girl and the Vampire?"

"Yes… we're the stuff of fairytales."

I nodded silently.

"Like Beauty and the Beast," he smirked.

I frowned then, knowing exactly which character he would identify with.

"Not quite," I whispered, "but I think the endings are the same."

And then we kissed once more, as was only proper.

**A/N: Please review! I know that ending probably wasn't what you were expecting, but I'm a fan of tension. I figured the story needed a shot of it. Giggle. Hope you liked it.**


	10. House and Home

**A/N: I know it's take me a while to update, but I didn't really want to break this next chapter down into parts. I always think it's better to have quite a bit to read at once, but that's me. Anyway, I know you've been eager for Hogwarts. The wait is over. Enjoy.**

"I don't get it," Emmett said as we entered King's Cross Station. "How can people not notice when you walk through a solid wall?"

"They just don't," I shrugged. "Magical gateways are usually protected with enchantments to stop Muggles from noticing; besides, they're always in too much of a hurry to see what's right in front of them."

We walked along the platform, each of us pushing a trolley loaded with our possessions. Obviously the vampires could have managed without, but to avoid unwanted attention, they had agreed to do things the human way. Talto hooted softly as we reached the barrier; he seemed to be just as happy to be going back to Hogwarts as I was.

The lead up had almost been unbearable, especially when the Cullens had left to hunt. I had spent those hours trapped in my room, rereading my sixth year textbooks. I had even skimmed the sections I was due to study. The areas inciting the most interest were those centred on human to animal transfiguration. My chief goal this year was to become an Animagus. I knew it would be difficult, but I was determined to succeed.

Once I had covered all the necessary revision, I had turned my attention to the newspaper which Tom, the Leaky Cauldron's innkeeper, had been kind enough to lend me. It was actually quite an interesting read, discussing everything related to Voldemort's downfall.

The first three pages had provided a detailed description of the celebrations which had taken place throughout the country in the immediate hours following Harry's victory. In London, the sky had been alight with thousands of shooting stars, upon which all eyes had been focused, including those belonging to non-magical people. In Birmingham, a parade of ecstatic witches and wizards had frightened unsuspecting Muggles as they pranced down the streets in pyjamas and long-johns, swinging their nightcaps above their heads in hysterical fashion. In Leeds and Sheffield, the skies had burned with the brilliant lights of hundreds of fancy, magical fireworks, thereby creating quite a bit of work for the Obliviators. The last English city to be mentioned was Manchester, where the entire Manchunian wizarding community had gathered together and had succeeded in disturbing the peace until the early hours of the morning.

The part which had interested me most, however, had been the section on the battle. The article had given the names and background of everyone involved, as well as issuing the details of their contribution. As I was already well aware, the Cullens hadn't been missed out. Naturally, friendly and heroic vampires would be a source of intrigue for anyone, so I could understand why the Prophet had reserved an entire page solely for them. I had read it so many times that I practically knew it off by heart.

_Although the students, teachers, and friends of Hogwarts fought fiercely and valiantly, many have admitted that their losses would have been far greater had it not been for the efforts of the family of vampires known as the Cullens. Oliver Wood, a former pupil who has since earned a place with Puddlemere United, fought alongside the group during the battle._

"_I don't even want to think of how we would have fared without the help of the Cullens and Hales," Wood confesses. "Whenever a curse or jinx would come flying our way, one of them would dive in front to take the hit."_

_Vampire skin, which is far harder than that belonging to giants or dragons, has the power to reflect even the most powerful of spells, including the three Unforgivable Curses._

_According to the professional Quidditch player, the diet of the peculiar family differs greatly to that of the average vampire; rather than feeding off humans, the Cullens prefer to hunt animals, which gives their eyes a unique golden shade, as opposed to the typical red._

_In an exclusive interview, Eldred Worple, author of 'Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires', gave his opinion on the curious coven._

"_Those who have read 'Blood Brothers' will know that vampires aware of the magical world can use dragon's blood as an alternative to their usual diet, thereby achieving a certain civility._

"_However, a vampire resisting the call of blood without the influence of the wizarding world is virtually unheard of. I would guess that only those of exceptional moral fibre could achieve such without magical stimulus; to substitute human blood with animal blood, when the latter would fail to fully alleviate the pain of venom, reinforces the Cullens as a laudable family, one which deserve the full acceptance and gratitude of the wizarding community."_

_The family is made up of seven members. The head of the coven is known as Doctor Carlisle Cullen, whose is rumoured to have a restraint so extraordinary that he is able to practice medicine amongst injured humans. He and his wife, Esme Cullen, have taken on the role as parents to the five other vampires. Rosalie Hale and Alice Cullen are their adopted daughters, and are married to Emmett Cullen and Jasper Hale. The last member of the family, Edward Cullen, was recently engaged to Isabella Swan, a young attendant of Hogwarts School, who, coincidentally, happens to be his Blood Singer. Sources report that Mr Edward Cullen has the power to read minds, though his gift does not require direct eye contact like that of most Legilimens, and can be used from a distance._

_One thing is certain: Miss Swan has some serious competition. Although the army of infatuated schoolgirls know better than to irritate the female vampires, challenging the eighteen year-old girl would prove far less hazardous, and whilst their efforts will almost certainly be in vain, the heroic heart-throb appears to be far too tempting to resist. _

"_They're all absolutely, one hundred percent brilliant, especially Edward," says student Lavender Brown, whilst twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. "There was a Death Eater about to send a curse my way, and Edward jumped between us to stop me from getting hurt. We became close friends, naturally."_

The article had become progressively worse after that, describing interviews with the numerous lovesick girls, all of whom seemed to be under the false impression that they shared something special with Edward and his family. I had thrown the paper at the wall at least three times in my frustration.

Edward, of course, had tried to reassure me, but his attempts had done nothing to lessen my anxiety. Obviously I knew that the other witches held no interest for him, and that his unchanging nature meant that he would love me forever; still, that didn't erase the fact that he was susceptible to the vampire version of Amortentia.

I knew the lengths that obsessed magical teens would go to achieve their ends, and the thought made me uneasy.I was counting on Edward's enhanced sense of smell to save him from that kind of danger, though; either way, I couldn't believe my luck—as if there wasn't enough separating us, and now my boyfriend and his family had achieved overnight celebrity status. I'd have to watch my temper more than ever this year.

"This is it," I announced, stopping a few metres from the barrier.

"It looks like a regular brick wall," Rosalie answered sceptically.

"What were you expecting—flashing light bulbs and banners?"

"I guess not," she said, "but you're sure we won't just crash into the brick?"

I nodded confidently, preparing myself for the run-up. As usual, the best way to convince the Cullens would be to give them a demonstration. Before I could set off, however, Alice eagerly ran at the wall, pushing herself and her trolley through the gateway and out of sight.

Jasper followed immediately afterwards, needing no more encouragement as he sped off after his wife. Then it was Rosalie and Emmett's turn, leaving only Edward and me behind.

"Ladies first," he smiled, waving a hand towards the gateway.

"How about we go together?"

I walked towards the wall, waiting for him to join me when I reached the edge. He made his way over, positioning his trolley against mine. Then, we both stepped through the barrier together, coming out on the other side to the sight of bustling crowds and the familiar red engine, steam billowing from the chimney at its front.

"That thing doesn't look very speedy," Emmett grumbled. "We could run to Hogwarts faster."

"It's the experience that counts," Alice chided. "Why does everything have to be about speed?"

"Because I'd like to get there today thank you very much."

"And you will," she promised, "so just enjoy it."

I looked along the platform, eager to see the faces of those returning to the school. Amongst the crowd of young children, I distinguished one small boy who was staring our direction. He had a very familiar face, and it took me a moment to figure out why, but I soon realised that he was the child who had been the first to approach the vampires before the battle.

He waved when he saw us looking, and came running over once we had returned the gesture.

"Hello," he said, his voice loaded with excitement. "Remember me?"

"Of course," Rosalie beamed, "we met you in the Great Hall."

"That's right!" He held out his hand in offering, and Rosalie took it willingly, her eyes sparkling as she gazed down at the Gryffindor student. The boy didn't flinch at the touch of her cold skin; in fact, the small reminder of her species only seemed to enhance his delighted expression. His messy hair was a rich, chocolaty colour, whilst his warm irises were a deep hazel. "I'm Amicus—Amicus Fortison. Are you all going to Hogwarts this year, too?"

"Yes," Rosalie confirmed, "and our parents will be there too—they're teaching Muggle Studies."

The little boy's eyes instantly widened and his jaw dropped slightly.

"Well, that changes things," he murmured, his brow furrowing in concentration. "I was all set for Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, but I'm not so sure now."

"You're a third year?" I asked, assessing his size carefully.

When I had first met him, I had guessed that he could have been no more than eleven. In truth, his size was what I would have expected for someone his age, but he had such a baby face that I would have thought him to be younger.

"I only just made it," he smiled. "My birthday is August 29th; if it had been a few days later I would have had to wait longer to go to school."

That explained it—he was a borderline student, probably even the youngest in his year.

"So do you think you'll take the subject?" Alice asked.

"Maybe. The only reason I was thinking of taking Divination in the first place was because I've heard people say its difficult to keep a straight face in Trelawney's classes—" I frowned—that hardly sounded like a good reason to select a particular subject, "—but having a vampire professor would be way cooler!"

"Hell yeah," Emmett laughed, offering up his hand for a high-five.

Amicus smirked and slapped his palm against the brawny vampire's, before looking back over his shoulder after hearing the call of his name. A little way away, a group made up of two boys and a girl were stood, obviously waiting for their friend, but too intimidated to approach.

"Well, I'd better be going," he said. "I'll see you later."

"Sure, little man," Emmett smiled. "See you around."

"Bye," Rosalie sang, waving after him as he skipped away from us.

"I don't understand," Edward said as we began boarding the train.

"Don't understand what?" I asked.

"He wasn't frightened at all. None of you are. I mean … we're still dangerous; but, even so, your kind doesn't seem frightened by us at all. They think of normal vampires, and the fear is the same as it would be if they were faced with an Acromantula, and then they see us … and their reactions are the equivalent of what you'd expect if they were to spot a particularly colourful butterfly."

"Ooooh … pretty," I said teasingly, unable to prevent the corners of my mouth from twitching upwards.

"It's not funny," he insisted, though he too was smiling slightly. "We're supposed to be scary!"

"Come on, Edward," I laughed as we began searching for an empty cabin, "you haven't been 'scary' for a while now. You and your family are in vogue—everybody wants a vegetarian vampire for a friend. You're the next Pygmy Puff."

They each looked at me questioningly then, obviously expecting some kind of explanation. Finally, we located free compartment, and after we had all sat down, I began describing the fuzzy little creatures that had captivated so many witches in my sixth year at Hogwarts.

"Are you serious?!" Emmett cried in outrage. "You can't compare us to one of those! We're venomous for god's sake!"

"So are platypuses," I shrugged, desperately trying to suppress the inevitable grin, "but I'd hardly call them scary."

"A Pygmy Puff and now a Platypus?" Edward said playfully. "Honestly, Bella, you're only giving us further reason to bite you."

I cocked an eyebrow at that last remark; it wasn't very often my anxious vampire boyfriend joked about that kind of thing.

"It's true, though, isn't it?" Jasper sighed. "There's no fear anymore. I feel like we're letting the side down."

"Maybe we should consider changing our—"

Emmett never got to finish his sentence, because he was interrupted by the sound of the compartment door sliding open, which preceded the spewing, girly outpours of Lavender Brown, who was accompanied by Parvati Patil.

"Bella!" Lavender gushed. "I can't believe you're here. It seems so strange you going back after you disappeared last year. I hope you had a nice summer."

"I did, tha—"

"That's brilliant. And how was yours, Edward?" she asked, spinning on her heals to face the boys, so that she was standing with her back to Alice, Rosalie, and me.

I inhaled a sharp breath, my fists forming tight balls, the skin stretching over my knuckles until white. In my periphery, I saw Rosalie's arms cross.

"It was very nice, thank you," Edward said politely, though I thought I detected a hint of menace in his tone.

"We saw you at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't we Parvati, and I waved, but I don't think you saw me."

"I was preoccupied with the game."

"Oh, I know," she continued unabashed, "I'm not surprised you didn't notice."

_Neither am I, _I thought resentfully.

Lavender and I had never exactly been close. We were friends of sorts, but I'd compare that relationship to the one I shared with Jessica. I found her a little superficial and, often, extremely irritating, so I couldn't bring myself to feel bad for the fact that I was currently visualising myself casting a Bat-Bogey hex on her.

She continued to blabber on about the Cup, eventually switching the topic to Hogwarts and her expectations for the school year.

"I'm sure you'll love Divination. I wrote to Professor Trelawney after we met in Diagon Alley, and she says that she's foreseen that you'll be taking her class."

_Great, _I thought—now we've attracted the attention of the school loony. Though I heavily doubted she'd be silly enough to predict the death of the vampires, I wouldn't be surprised if I turned out to be less fortunate.

"Oh, but … you don't take Divination, do you, Bella?"

She twisted slightly to look at me.

"No, I—"

"Well, never mind," she interrupted again, her attention back on Edward. "You can partner up with Parvati and me. It'll be perfect!"

_Breathe, Bella. Go to your happy place. Go to your happy place!_

I closed my eyes, desperately attempting to drown out the maddening sound of Lavender's voice with images of Edward and me together. My imagination could actually be quite distracting when it wanted to be, and though the pictures it conjured up were somewhat enjoyable, a portion of my mind was still unfortunately focused on my prattling fellow student.

When I looked over at Edward, I saw that his face was polite on the surface, but it was definitely masking a number of darker emotions. I thought I could detect the tedium in his eyes; they were fixed on the girl in front of him, yet they were also glassy, as if his mind was somewhere else. In addition, I could see a subtle anger in the set of his mouth. He looked like he could use a distraction as much as me.

And then I had a delicious, yet slightly wicked idea.

I almost laughed out loud as I once again closed my eyes and allowed my imagination to run away with itself; then, when my thoughts were filled with images that were so hedonistic they were practically sinful, I concentrated on collapsing my defences.

Unlike last time, I could instantly tell the second I became exposed to mental intrusion, and that awareness made me all the more determined to fill my thoughts with vivid images. It was the Calvin Klein scene all over again, only this time Edward's vampire powers didn't bring an end to my enjoyment. We were slamming into walls with the force of a wrecking ball, everything shattering around us whilst we fell to the floor like a pair of battling lions, our words forming feral growls as we trailed kisses over one another's skin.

_Edward,_ I sighed mentally, suddenly realising that silence filled the cabin.

"Edward?" Lavender asked uncertainly.

My eyes snapped open.

Edward was still looking at Lavender, but his expression was vacant, his mouth hanging slightly open. My attention briefly flitted to Jasper, whose head was snapping from his brother to Lavender and back again, his face overcome with understandable confusion. I guess he was trying to find the source of Edward's abrupt change in mood. He was looking in the wrong direction.

Edward blinked a few times, before shaking his head, undoubtedly attempting to clear it of the lusty images.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

Beside me, Alice tensed, probably just as baffled as her husband by Edward's peculiar behaviour.

Lavender opened her mouth to speak, which was when I dived back into my imaginings, eager to make the most of the new weapon I had recently discovered.

_Edward! _I screamed internally, my mind-self clawing at the marble skin of his back as his hands curled around my thighs. _I love you! Oh, Edward!_

Once again, when I opened my eyes, I had to hold back laughter. Edward was blinking excessively, his fingers flying up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Without warning, he stood up suddenly, walking past Lavender and Parvati to gently pull me up from my seat.

"I … um … I'm going to have to get back to you on that," he mumbled, edging his way around the girls. "I've just remembered something that I need to discuss with Bella. It's … urgent. Bye."

My mouth formed a hard line in my efforts to stop the triumphant roar of laughter now threatening to burst through my lips. I waved at the girls, who were staring on with puzzlement etched along their expressions as Edward towed me from the room towards the back of the train. Dozens of eyes watched us as we made our way, but they didn't seem to bother the insanely perfect vampire—he merely ignored them and continued along his path.

He led me into an empty compartment at the very back of the train, sliding the door shut the second I had stepped through. And then, before I had sufficient time to think, my back was pressed against the window, Edward's eyes bearing into mine. They were alight with amusement, but I could tell from his expression that he was also irritated, for which I could hardly blame him.

I bit my lip and waited.

"Would you mind explaining to me … what you were doing back there, please?" he said expectantly.

I shrugged, "She was annoying me. I needed to distract myself."

"And you felt the need to include me in that, did you?"

"I felt bad leaving you at the mercy of Lavender."

"So you thought a better alternative would be to turn me into an incoherent idiot? That's what they were all thinking—Edward's lost his wits. I couldn't concentrate of anything she was saying."

"And you didn't think to look into her mind?"

"I did," he said, his eyes narrowing, "but her thoughts were … elsewhere."

_I think I can guess._

I shuddered as my mind filled with images of Lavender wrapped around _my _Edward.

"I like that," he chuckled, and I knew he was referring to my use of determiner rather than the terrifying mental picture.

He leaned down to kiss me, his fingers weaving into my hair whilst mine clasped around his neck, reaching up on my tiptoes to bring us even closer. My skin erupted in goose bumps as his tongue traced along my lower lip, and I quickly responded by assuming the same position that the boyfriend usurper had formed in my head, my legs entwining with Edward's like thick vines.

I was so absorbed in the kiss that I barely noticed when the door slid open; an adamant cough, however, demanded my attention. I felt the blood rush to my face as I realised an audience had gathered outside the compartment, dozens of female faces pressed against the glass panels: at the very front stood Lavender. On the surface, she looked embarrassed by the fact that she had interrupted us, but I had a feeling she was feigning. I wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if she had done it on purpose. The blinds on the doors and window had been left up, so the evidence wasn't working in her favour.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her hands flying to her heart. "I had no idea."

_Is she telling the truth, Edward?_

"No," he said, squeezing my hand lightly, though his eyes remained fixed to the girl stood opposite, "it's perfectly alright. Bella and I should rejoin the others."

His arm slid around my waist as he pulled me towards the door, and I couldn't keep my expression from mirroring the enormous satisfaction that his action provoked as we passed the resentful witches.

_You've got a bit of a fan club_, I thought.

"It's too bad I only have eyes for one girl, then, isn't it?" he smiled.

I grinned and nodded, before turning back into our cabin where the others were waiting for us. Though they each bore amused expressions, it wasn't difficult to make out the confusion swimming in their eyes.

"Bella thought it would be funny to drop her mental defences," Edward explained. "I couldn't concentrate."

"Oh," said the empathic vampire, his face displaying instant understanding, "that would explain it."

From the way that Jasper was eyeing his brother, I guessed he was referring to more than his inability to focus. My gaze found Edward, who smirked and winked, playfully confirming my assumption.

The Cullens spent the next couple of hours requesting information of my experiences during my first six years at school. They wanted to know everything, from the activities I had engaged in during my spare time to the results I achieved in my OWLS.

"I got nine 'outstandings' and one 'acceptable.'"

"What was the 'acceptable' for?" Edward asked curiously.

"History of Magic," I muttered, a little ashamedly. "I was unconscious for the majority of those lessons… literally. Professor Binns could put a vampire to sleep."

"That bad?"

"Yeah," I said, carefully tracing a picture of a tuxedo clad Edward standing beside the girl that was supposed to be me.

I continued sketching whilst the others fired question after question. They were particularly interested in hearing about the Triwizard Tournament, especially when I slipped up and mentioned the Yule Ball.

"You actually went?" Edward asked surprised.

"Um… yeah. I didn't want to miss anything. It was an exciting time, and since everyone was spending Christmas at Hogwarts, I did too."

"Who did you go to the ball with?" Edward pressed.

I blushed, my stomach clenching at the memory.

"Cormac McLaggen," I muttered, unable to meet his gaze. "I didn't really know him that well when he asked me—he was in the year above me. He seemed quite charming at first, and since no one else had asked, I just accepted."

"What happened?"

"Well, everything was alright at first. Apart from my horrific dancing, the opening hour was fun … and then, all of a sudden, he was trying to feel me up. The gentleman disappeared and all that was left was this complete … slimeball! I couln't help myself… I reacted on instinct."

"What did you do?" questioned Alice.

"I… hit him… below the belt, cast a jelly-brain jinx, and then ran away. I felt really bad afterwards. I panicked."

"So your date was cut short?" Edward asked, a note of hope audible in his voice.

I smiled and nodded, my eyes still fixed to my now-completed drawing. I pulled out my wand and waved it over the paper. The image transformed into a new one, changing the very next second so that it looked like the figures were dancing over the parchment. Below the image, the words 'Bella and Edward' formed as if they were being written by an invisible hand, only to disappear a few moments after to rewrite themselves.

"There were plenty of other people to hang around with, and Cormac didn't bother me—he was too busy stuffing breadsticks up his nose." I flicked my wand once more, and said, _"Plico volucris."_

The paper instantly folded to create a perfect miniature swan, which fluttered from my open palm, circling over the heads of the vampires, who watched as if mesmerised. Finally, the origami creation descended onto Edward's lap, where it unfolded itself, revealing my dancing sketch.

He grinned widely, watching the simple scene play out. The others gathered around him, each seeming as entranced as their brother.

"Hey, they're kissing," Emmett chuckled, "It's not very true to life, though—this Bella hasn't tripped once."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled as Edward extracted his wallet from his jacket and slid the paper into one of the free pockets.

After hours of discussion and playful interaction, I eventually managed to pull myself away to go and change into my school clothes. It was almost five o'clock, so it wouldn't be long until we pulled into Hogsmeade station. It felt extremely strange to be stepping back into uniform: the charcoal, knee-length skirt, black tights, and dark, shoes; the white button down shirt and red and yellow tie; and, finally, the black work robes bearing the Gryffindor crest. I wondered whether Alice would grumble about having to restrict her wardrobe. She certainly wouldn't have as much time to spend admiring designer outfits, which, in turn, meant that she would be far more likely to spend her free time concentrating on her own image, rather than mine. That was a nice thought.

I made my way back along the corridor, towards our compartment, and could only have been about twenty feet away when a door slid open and someone stepped out, effectively cutting me off. The second we saw one another, we froze in our tracks. My mind reacted instantly, the mental defences rebuilding themselves at the sight of my foe. I was fairly sure that he'd be unable to hurt me in that sense, but occlumency was now a reflexive shield that I would carry forever.

Blaise's eyes fixed on my face, whilst his mouth pulled back in an infuriated snarl, obviously realising now how badly I had fooled him during our last meeting.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't the filthy Mudblood," he whispered furiously, snatching his wand from his pocket. "We're going to have some fun this year, you and I."

I copied instinctively, preparing myself for a duel. Before either of us could throw a jinx, however, three low, terrifying growls issued from behind my opponent, and as he turned, slowly but surely, he saw, as did I, the menacing figures of Edward, Emmett, and Jasper.

They closed in on Blaise until they were so close that they were leaning in on him, each of them wearing livid expressions.

"I'm tempted," Edward hissed, "to let Bella deal with you. I've seen her wipe the floor with dozens of Death Eaters. You wouldn't stand a chance."

Emmett's lips pulled back over his teeth. Despite what I had said earlier, he definitely looked scary now. I was so used to his cheery, amused expression—rarely was I face with another; even when he had fought the newborns, he had been wearing a grin of anticipation, so I couldn't understand how he could become so irate over a schoolboy.

"But, I'm sure you can imagine," Edward continued, "why _I _in particular, being a vampire, would take offense after hearing you apply that foul name to _my _Singer."

From where I was stood, I could clearly make out the way that Blaise's Adam's Apple bobbed up and down as he gave a very distinct gulp.

"It is by far the most delicious thing I've tasted, so if you _ever _insinuate that hers is inferior again, don't be surprised if I decide to sample what you claim to be the finer stuff. We Cullens don't usually go for haute cuisine, but I could make an exception."

"You'd have to share," Emmett smirked ominously.

"I'm sure there'd be enough for all of us," Jasper smirked. "Emmett and I will settle for the radial arteries; you can have the carotid, Edward."

"Thanks," he said, his eyes never leaving Blaise, who looked on in horror as the boys ended their pretend discussion on which areas of his body they were planning on biting.

Edward tilted his head, flicking it to the side in dismissal. The Slytherin boy immediately retreated back into the compartment from which he had just exited, giving me a massive sense of déjà vu.

Emmett and Jasper suddenly burst with silent laughter, but Edward still looked angry.

"Did he upset you?" he asked seriously, his face strained with worry.

"It's only Blaise; he's an idiot. The Slytherins have been using the same material for years. If they were a little more original, maybe they'd have more luck." I frowned, my eyes flying back to Emmett. "What was with the snarling, anyway? You looked like you wanted to kill him."

"Well, as much as we don't mind the other houses not freaking out at the mere sight of us, we need someone to terrify to keep up our self-esteem."

"And will you be restricting yourselves to just the one student?"

"Nope, we're going for the full house," he explained, grinning wickedly.

_Excellent._

The boys left me then so that they could go and get changed. When I returned to our compartment I saw that the girls had already slipped into their uniforms. The only difference in their outfits was that they were wearing black ties, and their robes didn't bear a crest, nor were they lined with House colours.

I had never even considered where the Cullens would spend the majority of their year, but now, seeing the girls in plain robes—belonging nowhere, as of yet—set me wondering. Surely they would be sorted, but into which House? The only vampires of whom I was certain were Alice and Emmett—they were Gryffindors through and through.

Edward, though undeniably brave in every sense, would fit in well in Ravenclaw. He had spent a good portion of the last century devoting himself to his studies, after all; then again, that had been a result of having little else to do. It wasn't as if he spent much time nowadays with his head in books. I couldn't decide—it was a toss-up between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, though I prayed for the latter.

Rosalie and Jasper were another matter. Both could have been described as ambitious during their human lives: Rosalie seeking to climb the social ladder through marriage, and Jasper rising up the ranks when he fought in the Civil War. She was tenacious, whilst he was thorough and practical. I remembered that both had voted to kill me after Edward had prevented the van from crushing me. I couldn't deny that there were aspects to their personality which matched the requirements for Slytherin. Obviously I would never think of them as bad people because of it, in the same way that I could never dislike Slughorn for the House he belonged to.

I truly had no idea whatsoever where they would end up. Perhaps their aversion to Slytherin House would destine them for another. I seriously hoped so—I'd feel bad for them if they had to spend the year cooped up with Blaise and his friends.

"Alice," I said nervously, "have you _seen_ which House you'll be joining?"

She shook her head morosely.

"The future is too difficult to predict when it involves Hogwarts. There are too many factors clouding my vision. I can't see past Hagrid for a start, and then there's Firenze."

"Do you think we'll be able to stay together?" Rosalie asked, her brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "There are a lot of you, and you're all really different. Being family doesn't necessarily mean you'll be sorted into the same group, but then there are families, like the Weasleys, who all end up in the same House. It all depends on values and character."

"Well I think it's fair to say that… in terms of values, we're all pretty similar," said Alice, "but I don't think the same can be said for character."

We fell into silence, then, each of us considering the possibilities the Sorting could pose.

The boys soon returned, looking exceedingly handsome in their uniforms, each of them garbed in smart, charcoal trousers, white shirts, black ties, and plain dark robes.

"Nice," said Rosalie, appraising her husband.

"You too," he winked.

Within another thirty minutes, the corridor outside our cabin began crowding with students as the train started to slow, finally drawing to a stop once we reached Hogsmeade. Excitement pulsed through every vein in my body as I was hit with the sudden chilly tingle of the Scottish September air.

Hagrid was there to meet the first-years on the platform, waiting to take them across the lake in the traditional ending to their first journey to Hogwarts. They pointed at the Cullens as they passed; obviously the rumours of their arrival had travelled quickly.

"What are _those?_" Alice asked, wide-eyed, as she stared on at the line of sinister horse-like creatures.

"Thestrals," I said, climbing into a carriage, the others hopping in after me. "They can only be seen by people who've glimpsed death, which I suppose is most of the returning students. They're actually really gentle creatures."

I could barely sit still during the ride up to the castle. The indigo sky was surprisingly clear and twinkling with hundreds of stars, though a dark grey smudge on the horizon heralded tomorrow's murky weather. I had forgotten just how cold Scotland could be; even Forks couldn't compete. I wrapped my robes tighter around myself, shivering against the biting chill.

Finally, we reached the school gate, where the carriage stopped to let us out.

"I can't believe we're here," said Rosalie, clapping her hands together. "I love this place!"

We filed in through the massive arched doors, passing through into the wondrous, candlelit Great Hall, the enchanted ceiling as lovely as the real thing, shooting stars decorating the inky blue in a glorious meteor shower.

Waiting at the front of the Hall, seated at the high table, were the row of teachers, amongst whom I distinguished Esme and Carlisle. They were each wearing smiles that stretched from ear to ear, their eyes greedily taking in the faces of the young witches and wizards who would fall under their instruction this year. Esme waved excitedly upon seeing us. She was clothed in a pretty silver dress which complemented her midnight blue robes. Carlisle's robes were identical in colour, as was his tie, which he wore above his pristine white shirt.

"Where should we sit?" Rosalie asked, eyeing the House tables.

"Until you know where you'll be, sit with me," I said.

I searched along the table for familiar faces, and walked to the far end after catching sight of the Weasleys' flaming red hair.

"Hey up, you lot," Ron greeted us. "Glad to be back?"

"More than you know," I smiled, lowering myself onto the bench.

"I hope they get the Sorting over quickly this year. I'm starving."

"But you just ate!" Hermione exclaimed, her incredulous expression quickly transforming into one of amusement. "Two pumpkin-pasties less than three quarters of an hour ago—how can you be hungry?"

"Ron doesn't have a stomach," Ginny mocked, "just a never ending pit that will remain unfilled for the rest of time."

"Thanks for that, Ginny," Ron grimaced, his eyes occasionally flitting back to the empty golden platters before him.

"You're welcome."

"She's right," Hermione chortled. "I think the Cullens will sprout wrinkles before anyone manages to fill you."

Laughter filled the air as our group reacted to the joke. Ron seemed to find humour in his girlfriend's playfulness, and gave her a light-hearted nudge with his shoulder.

"Even Mum's given up on him," Ginny teased, shaking her head. "No matter how many plates she puts in front of him, he always empties them."

"And, yet, he still looks like a bean pole," Harry teased.

"You're just jealous of my rippling muscles," said Ron, much to vampires' amusement, each of whom had more strength in one little finger than any of the witches or wizards occupying the room could ever hope to achieve.

In fairness, Ron had bulked up a little now that he had reached his full height. The change was only slight, and although he was still lean, it wasn't difficult to see that the muscles of his forearms had thickened, or to notice that his torso had widened as if he was now expanding outwards instead of vertically. Unfortunately, everyone looked like a bean pole next to Emmett, so Ron was currently at a severe disadvantage.

Whilst we were waiting for the Hall to fill, we found out that the news of our encounters with Blaise Zabini had spread. Everyone seemed to know about my revenge at the World Cup, which was probably courtesy of Seamus, Ron and Dean. It was certainly a popular topic of conversation, which was probably the reason why the Slytherins were looking so sour.

"You and the Slytherins are going to have a beautiful relationship this year, Bella," Harry laughed.

"As always," Ron joked.

My gaze flew to Blaise, who was eyeing me odiously, his dark irises swimming with malice. He looked away upon realising that his stare had attracted Edward's attention; regardless of our enmity, I doubted that he would be stupid enough to provoke the vampires.

Suddenly, the room fell silent as Professor McGonagall called for everyone's attention. She was clothed in dark green robes which billowed out behind her, and on her head sat a black, crooked witch's hat. To her left stood an old, wooden stool, where the Sorting Hat had been positioned. The last time I had viewed it it had been burning brightly, set alight by the snake man whom had sought to silence and destroy those opposing his evil regime. It was fine now though, and if I hadn't witnessed the flames with my own eyes, I never would have guessed that there had been any damage in the first place.

"Welcome," she said, "to another year at Hogwarts School. The student body is considerably larger, as I'm sure you've realised, thanks to the return of last years NEWT students. Now that the danger of our time has finally waned, I trust that this year will be a peaceful one, where you shall all be able to attend your studies and complete your exams to the best of your ability.

"Now, before we begin the feast, let us undertake the Sorting."

No sooner had she finished speaking when Hagrid trudged into the Great Hall, leading the line of young, frightened children, all of whom looked miniscule in comparison. The instant they reached the front, the slit at the hat's base—which so resembled a mouth—opened up as it began to recite its song.

"_Throughout my time as Sorting Hat _

_It has been my task_

_To look inside the heads of many_

_And this question ask:_

_Which House will suit your character—_

_Where do you belong?_

_For there are four of greatest strength_

_To tell of in this song._

_First comes boldest Gryffindor_

_Who values courage best,_

_Favouring those of valiant heart_

_Far beyond the rest._

_Hufflepuff loves loyal folk,_

_Hardworking to the core._

_For boys and girls of speedy wit_

_Is clever Ravenclaw._

_Finally, comes Slytherin—_

_The House of true ambition,_

_Where minds of fiery, cunning souls_

_Receive the best nutrition._

_Though generations I have placed_

_E'er since my starting day,_

_I must encourage unity_

_In every single way._

_Diversity should not equate_

_To hostility and spite:_

_Coexist with fellowship,_

_For that is good and right._

_And peace is yours forever more_

_Should you respect this rule:_

_Treat others as you would be treated_

_Throughout your days at school."_

The hat finished to a round of loud, respectful applause. I suppose everyone was relieved to see it a little more optimistic this year, though the advice had not faded now that the threat of Voldemort had disappeared

When the room finally fell silent, McGonagall unfurled her scroll and called the first name.

"Archer, Lucy."

A little girl with lovely blonde ringlets stepped forwards from the group, hopping up onto the raised platform where she took her place on the stool. She seemed quite at ease, her expression indicating no sign of nerves whatsoever as she waited for the professor to lower the hat onto her head.

The cap slipped down over the girls face, supported by her shoulders whilst it deliberated. Her head had been out of sight for no less than three seconds when the hat cried, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Our table erupted in thunderous applause as the students welcomed the newcomer. McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, revealing Lucy's ecstatic expression. She happily ran from the podium and joined her new comrades.

"Beckett, Ellis," called the professor.

This time, a dark haired boy, who seemed tall for his age, took to the stool. He looked less comfortable there than the little girl, but I could hardly blame him.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The boy seemed happy with the decision, and was visibly relieved that his turn was over as he walked towards the cheering table.

'Darlington, Gaia' was up next, and was the first pupil to be sorted into Ravenclaw. 'Fairfax, Iris' followed her, earning another burst of clapping from the students. I tried not to laugh as I watched Iris take a seat across the table from Luna. The poor girl obviously didn't know what to make of my friend's odd behaviour as she wafted the air with her hands, probably trying to do the first-year a favour and blow away her wrackspurts.

The Sorting seemed to pass more quickly this year, perhaps because I kept losing my concentration, my eyes often lingering on Edward whilst he watched the youngsters being sent to one of the four Houses.

I was roused from my trance when Ron muttered something to Harry. I threw him a questioning glance.

"That kid," he said, nodding towards the platform where McGonagall was about to lower the hat onto the head of a smirking boy with slick, black hair, "is definitely for Slytherin."

"Who is he?"

"Something Maugraine."

"Malum," said Hermione.

"Well, anyway," Ron continued, "his dad works for the Ministry. He was one of the gits who pushed for the Muggle-Born Registration Commision."

Sure enough, Malum Maugraine joined the Slytherins, who received him gladly. The ceremony seemed to provoke a contest between them and us. When 'McLoughlan, Aoife' joined the Gryffindor table next, everyone made an effort to make as much noise as possible, each of us determined to cheer louder than the Slytherins. Ron and Harry were almost red in the face when they'd finished screaming for 'Shakespeare, Samuel', but the Slytherins reacted by loudly stomping their feet as they were awarded 'Serposa, Velena'.

Finally, the front of the hall was clear of first-years, all having taken their rightful places amongst the older pupils.

"Now," said Professor McGonagall, her voice triggering a swift and heavy silence, "I trust that you have all already heard the news of our other newcomers, and so I think it best that we, for want of a better phrase, _cut to the chase_. Would the Cullens and Hales please come forward to be Sorted."

Her request instantly set my heart racing, and I squeezed Edward's hand with as much force as I could muster as he rose from the bench beside me. He smiled weakly, before heading off towards the front.

The air was alive with whispers—electric and buzzing—all eyes riveted to the vampires as they passed gracefully down the length of the Great Hall, banded and coordinated like soldiers, the girls side by side at the front, the boys forming a perfect line behind them. If it hadn't already been common knowledge, it would have been easy to guess that the five were close, simply by the way they seemed to unite so easily. They all stopped in the same second, and waited for their names to be called.

"Cullen, Alice," said Professor McGonagall.

Alice danced forwards, a blur of inky black in her eagerness to officially join a House. No sooner had the hat touched her head when it bellowed out the beautiful word.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Yes!" I cheered, my voice barely audible as the silence exploded into thunderous ovation. Dozens of fists hammered against the wooden table, creating a deafening beat throbbing with the joy of the entire House.

Alice sat down beside me, her expression mirroring the same delight and relief surging through my own body. We both squealed in excitement, throwing our arms about each other's neck.

"I knew it," I laughed, pulling back as the racket diminished.

My excitement instantly morphed the second McGonagall called out 'Cullen, Edward." The tension was almost unbearable, and if it had been possible to shuffle any farther on the edge of my seat, I would have been sat cross-legged on the floor, biting my nails to distract myself from the heart which was currently trying to break free of its cage.

Edward's head disappeared beneath the rim as McGonagall lowered the hat. I could virtually hear the mind of every female student in the room, willing it to call out the name of their House. I chanted the word 'Gryffindor' over and over again in my head, hoping it would be the one I heard. The silence seemed to go on for ever, drawn out by indecision and uncertainty. Clearly, Edward was not an easy subject to place—his character was just too complex.

_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor._

The mental mantra continued, my heart accelerating with every second, until its tempo reached the limit. I had repeated the same word so many times in my thoughts, it took me a second to realise that the voice which carried through the hall was separate from my own. Only when others along the table shot to their feet and began screaming their hearts out did I comprehend that the Hat had made its decision. My eyes found Edward's; he was wearing a brilliant smile, his eyes twinkling like topaz as he walked along the line of Gryffindors, ready to take his place amongst the rapturous crowd.

Lavender was clapping like a seal, bobbing on her toes in her efforts to catch his eye. She whispered something in Parvati's ear, and the pair began giggling with renewed excitement, whilst the girls over at the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and even the Slytherin table, looked on with heartbroken expressions.

_This is a happy moment, _I thought. _Don't let it get to you._

"Welcome to Gryffindor, mate," Seamus ginned, leaning across Harry and Ginny to shake Edward's hand.

"A mind reader—that's exactly what we need," Ron mused. "Now we'll know if the Slytherins are planning anything. It'll be brilliant."

"Oh, come on, Ron," Ginny complained, "Who'd want to spend their time in the minds of the Slytherins? Can you think of a more ghastly place to be?"

"True," he sighed. "Well, I guess that means you're of the hook."

"Don't worry," said Edward, "I've got your back."

Both Ron and Harry smiled appreciatively, before turning their attention back to the front of the Hall.

As predicted, Emmett too joined Gryffindor House. The students were becoming louder with each addition. They had been happy with gaining the first two vampires, but now that we had the third, everyone desperately wanted to acquire the other two. I imagined that it was a similar feeling to that a person would experience when playing the lottery (not that I knew personally): you get two numbers and you think that'll be it, but then you get the third and your mind instantly flies to the possibility that you could win the full set.

It was when Jasper took to the stool that the tension really started to build. Edward's smile slowly sank into a frown, his brow furrowing with worry.

"Edward?" I whispered.

"It's conflicted. It can't decide between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

I certainly hadn't expected that.

"Jasper is a strategist; he weighs up all the options and picks the one that will benefit those around him the most, but then his morals and his gut sometimes force him to do the opposite. His past is going to have a big influence, I think—his human deeds say a lot about him."

That was true. And I couldn't forget that he had consciously made the effort to resist the call of human blood, even before he had met Alice. I felt bad for thinking he could ever be destined for Slytherin. There was definitely a Gryffindor in there, and the Sorting Hat seemed to agree.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Woooooooooooooh!" Alice screamed, jumping to her feet and clapping gleefully with the others as her husband sprung from the stool, wearing a smile that touched his eyes. "I knew it!"

"No you didn't," he laughed. "You were as clueless as the rest of us."

"I had a gut-feeling," she said adamantly, "and since my visions are just an extension of my fantastic intuition, there was never any reason to doubt that this was where you'd end up."

"Yeah, right," Emmett snorted, rolling his eyes before turning his focus to the last remaining vampire now seated on the platform.

The Hat took even longer than it had with Jasper; in fact, I couldn't remember having seen it take such a lengthy amount of time in all my years at school. Even Harry hadn't had to wait this long to join a table. I'd feel awful for Rosalie if she was separated from her family now, after every single one of them had been placed in the same house.

"What's taking so long?" Emmett demanded in a whisper, his eyes snapping to his brother.

"More vacillation," was all he would say.

"Which Houses?"

But he just shook his head, his mouth pressing into a tight line… and that was when I knew that Slytherin was in the running. The silence, for the longest time was absolute, at least to my limited human ears, and the only thing to break it initially was the blatant rumbling of Ron's stomach. The sound drained a little of the tension, especially when his face turned a vivid shade of red. The instant my focused switched to my blushing friend, the Hat once again called out the name the entire Gryffindor table had been longing to hear.

"Hell yes!" Emmett cried, clapping his hands together in celebration.

Rosalie smiled as she walked towards us, but it looked a little forced. Carlisle and Esme, who were seated between Flitwick and Slughorn, were clapping with enthusiasm now that the last of their children had been Sorted, their countenances proud, radiating the utmost satisfaction. Esme looked like the cat that had captured the canary.

"Hey, babe," Emmett grinned, sliding an arm around his wife, "I knew you'd make it."

She squeezed his hand and took her seat, not seeming to notice the way that the eyes of almost every adolescent boy in the room were centred on her.

_Yep, she's definitely upset._

Alice was about to comment, only she was cut off by the Headmistress, who had taken her seat at the centre of the high table.

"Now, before we begin our feast, Professor Dumbledore has requested that he be allowed to say a few words."

McGonagall's statement provoked a wave of confused mutterings, and if it hadn't been for my knowledge of the portrait hanging in her office, I would have seriously pondered the woman's sanity. She waved a hand towards the large canvas hanging directly behind her. The frame was empty though—nothing but a flat, black background surrounded by gold.

Mere seconds after the teacher had made the announcement, the old bespectacled, white bearded man came ambling into the picture.

"Ah," he said, a carefree smile occupying his face, "right on time I see. As some of you may know, I happen to be a big fan of music, so I would have been sorely disappointed to have to miss out on the school song. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall was kind enough to oblige me this lovely portrait so that I may enjoy that particular treat. First, though, you all need watering and feeding, so before you begin your feast, I would like to share a few words, which I think you all ought to consider whilst tucking into the snap: Dollop! Hubbub! Bubble! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

I smiled, already having grown accustomed to the old headmaster's strangeness.

The vampires were still wearing baffled expressions as a variety of mouth watering food suddenly materialised onto the once empty plates, causing a range of delicious scents to simultaneously attack my senses. I didn't know what to go for.

"What a beautiful sight," Ron practically dribbled as he attacked the stuffed pig with a carving knife, slicing off a sizable slab of pork. He moaned loudly as he transferred a piece to his mouth, which only made me laugh harder.

"Hey, they're even catering to the vampires," Emmett blurted, reaching for the golden jug sat before him. A stream of crimson liquid poured into his goblet, and after he had filled his own, he proceeded to provide the others with their share.

"Di' 'ou espe um t' le' 'ou starf?" Ron asked, his words marred by the glob of food rolling around in his mouth.

"We kind of thought we'd be eating out," Edward smiled, sipping at his blood.

"You know… this tastes different to the stuff we had at the world cup and in the Leaky Cauldron. Have you noticed?" Emmett enquired.

"It's probably a different species," Hermione guessed. "Perhaps it's like wine—a Pinot Grigio tastes different to a Chardonnay."

"Maybe you're right. We'll have to have a dragon tasting party to find out."

"I like that idea," Alice laughed, her half-gold eyes sparkling with the notion.

The food was wonderful as usual. I had a relatively modest portion, since I wanted to save room for desert, and opted for a slice of beef, a Yorkshire pudding, a few boiled potatoes, and peas, which I topped with gravy. It was piping hot, but I welcomed the heat in my stomach after the chilly journey from Hogsmeade station.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the feast thus far, even the vampires, though Rosalie's smile occasionally transformed into a sad frown, which the witches and wizards soon noticed.

"What's wrong, Rosalie?" Ginny asked, picking up on the vampire's plummeting mood. "You don't look very happy to be here."

"No, it's not that," she replied hastily, obviously not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Then, what's wrong?" Hermione questioned, reaching for her goblet.

Rosalie stared down at the table, almost as if she was too ashamed to meet the eyes of those surrounding her.

"It's just… the Sorting Hat… wanted to put me in Slytherin."

I sighed, wishing I knew how to alleviate her sudden depression, but, unfortunately, I wasn't gifted with the same abilities as Jasper. Luckily, it didn't matter because Harry came to the rescue.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he assured her. "It wanted to put me in Slytherin, too."

Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes narrowing disbelievingly. I was fully aware that my own expression had also turned incredulous—Harry had never disclosed that fact in front of me before. The idea that the Sorting Hat would ever have considered him suitable for Slytherin was absurd!

"You?" Rosalie clarified, her tone suggesting scepticism. "But you killed Voldemort. And you were ready to let him kill you for the sake of everyone else!"

He shrugged and said, "The Hat still recognised certain qualities in me that would have fit well in Slytherin, but I asked it not to put me there. Dumbledore said that that's what makes us—our choices. Did you ask it not to put you there, too?"

"I begged," she admitted, a little more cheerfully this time.

"Well, then, you belong here. Besides, not everyone with ambition turns out bad. Slughorn is nice enough—he was there for the battle."

"Don't forget Professor Snape," Hermione smiled kindly. "He was in Slytherin, and look what we owe him—our lives, no doubt, as do countless others."

The distress had now completely vanished from the beautiful blonde's face, and instead had been replaced with an undeniable gratitude.

"Thank you," she said, almost shyly, which was definitely new for Rosalie; even Edward looked taken aback as she conveyed her appreciation.

I had a feeling that Hogwarts would definitely have a positive influence, not only on Rosalie, but on the rest as well—eternal life may have given them infinite time to develop and perfect their skills and knowledge, but being a vampire was hardly good for social interaction. A year in the magical community was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

When all our plates were empty (excluding Ron's), the leftovers disappeared into thin air, only to be replaced moments later by every dessert I could think of. There was: chocolate gateaux, sticky-toffee pudding, cream-covered sponge cake, fruit salad, jam roly-poly, apple pie, strawberry cheesecake, every major flavour ice-cream, blood-flavoured lollipops… and the list went on.

"This is the hardest decision I've ever had to make," Ron said, looking distressed.

"If you eat quickly," Harry pointed out, "you could almost manage a bit of everything."

"Good idea," Ron agreed, taking a generously sized slice of cheesecake.

My insides felt as warm and gooey as the sticky-toffee pudding when the feast came to a close. The Cullens were still happily sucking on their lollipops, even when Professor McGonagall rose from her chair to address the hall.

"Before I send you off to your houses, there are a few matters which I wish to discuss. Firstly, may I introduce Philomela Fulplume, who will this year be teaching Transfiguration."

She waved a hand to her right, where a woman in pale blue robes, who could surely have been no older than thirty-five, was sitting. All in all, she looked lovely, her golden hair falling in loose ringlets to her waist, framing a face that was, as of yet, free of lines. She smiled lightly during the introduction, her eyes travelling along each table as she examined the faces of the students.

"Next," said Professor McGonagall, "is our new Muggle Studies professor, Esme Cullen, whom I'm sure you all will recognise, or at least heard of."

Esme looked absolutely radiant as she sat waving gently at the pupils. Her snowy teeth practically sparkled as they caught the candle light, causing the males occupying the room to give a collective sigh.

I giggled into my palm.

"Doctor Carlisle Cullen will assist her whilst off duty from St Mungo's Hospital, and will give a series of lectures on medical practices used in the non-magical community."

"That's right," Emmett whispered, "tell them they'll be playing doctor and patient. That's bound to fill the class with drooling teenage girls."

Carlisle's eyes focused in on his son, obviously having heard the crack, but he continued to grin happily nonetheless. Romilda Vane actually swooned at the sight of the glorious doctor. I had a feeling that the hospital wing would be full this year, its occupants all hoping for a visit from a certain vampire medic.

"The Forbidden Forest is, as usual, forbidden. No student is to enter, unless instructed _and _accompanied by a teacher. Also, Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that no magic is to be performed in the corridor between classes.

"Quidditch trials are to be held in the second week of term. Anyone wishing to try out should contact the House team captain.

"And now, I will pass you over to Professor Flitwick for the school song."

The tiny teacher hopped down off his stool and walked to the front of the platform, where he fired a long, golden ribbon from the end of his wand. It flew above high into the air, hovering over the teachers' table to form the familiar words.

"Would you care to do the honours, Professor Dumbledore?" asked Flitwick.

"Why, I'd be delighted," said the old, bearded man. He lifted his arms in the air as the conductor of an orchestra might. "As per usual, everyone pick their favourite tune and sing along. Ready? One… Two…"

And the school roared:

_Hogwarts__, __Hogwarts__, Hoggy Warty __Hogwarts__,  
Teach us something, please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot._

Emmett's voice carried over the rest. He seemed to find some hilarity in the song's lyrics, though I had no idea why—they seemed fairly normal to me. Like always, everyone finished at different times. In the end, the last to be left chanting were three young boys and girl, who were singing to the tune of the British national anthem. When I looked along our table, I realised that one of them was Amicus, and couldn't help but grin.

Everyone clapped after they finished, Dumbledore more enthusiastically than anyone.

"Wonderful," he pronounced, "absolutely charming! Another enchanting memory to keep me occupied until next year's opening feast, and now that I have enjoyed the magic that is music, I think it is time for me to be on my way. Goodnight all! Toodily-pip!"

And off he went, disappearing out of the right-hand side of the portrait, leaving the dark canvas behind him empty.

"The teachers and I would like to wish you good luck for the coming year," McGonagall said, taking over as she rose from her place, "and to encourage that you each strive to fulfil your potential. Now, would you all kindly follow Professor Dumbledore's lead—off to bed."

"Well, that's that," said Ron, rising from the bench along with the rest of us. "Our last first feast."

He was about to set off in the direction of the giant doors leading out into the Entrance Hall, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve before he could take the first step.

"Ron," she said, "we have to direct the first years. They don't know the way, remember."

He groaned loudly, before following on after Hermione to round up the children.

"Bloody midgets," he muttered as he left.

I rolled my eyes and set off with the others, but we hadn't even reached the stairs when Edward stopped us.

"We need to go see Professor Slughorn," he announced. "Carlisle says we should wait outside his office."

"Why?" I asked, my mind sifting through the possible reasons for the summons.

"He doesn't know," he shrugged. "It was just an instruction given to him by Professor McGonagall."

"Well, where _is_ Slughorn's office?" Jasper enquired.

"I'll take you," I said, leading them up the stairs until we reached the sixth floor, where we separated from Harry, Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus, who continued on up. "Edward, you'll have to keep an eye on them until they've made it into the Common Room, or we won't know the password."

"I will do," he nodded, his face possessing a far off look as his eyes travelled over the stained glass windows and the hanging tapestries.

Slughorn arrived five minutes after us, his forehead glimmering with the sheen of perspiration, whilst his cheeks were tinted scarlet after he had been forced to climb the series of stairs leading from the ground floor.

"Ah, there you are," he puffed, sliding a brass key from the pocket of his brown robes, "I was worried I'd have to make the trek up to Gryffindor tower. Come on in, come on in."

We all headed in through the doors, passing from the corridor into Slughorn's luxurious office.

"Now, where did I put them?" he said to himself, rummaging through his many cupboards. Finally, he walked to his desk, where he seemed to locate the thing he had been looking for. "Aha!"

He picked up two corked glass bottles, their deep emerald tone obscuring the contents.

"Right," he said, handing one to Jasper and the other to Alice, before flicking his wand in the air and conjuring five shot glasses, "listen carefully—you don't want to get this wrong."

The shot glasses whizzed towards the vampires, hovering until they were plucked from the air.

"When the other students begin climbing into bed, you are each to take one shot of the potion I've prepared for you. Alice, I'd recommend that you only fill yours three quarters full, since your size will increase the time it takes your body to use it up."

"What does it do?" Rosalie asked suspiciously.

"It's a sleeping draught," revealed Slughorn.

"What? But we can't sleep," Jasper argued.

"Hence the reason why I'm giving you the sleeping draught," the professor chuckled. "Did you think you'd be allowed to wander the halls at night like a bunch of spooks? Ha! No, no. You'll be tucked up in bed just like the others."

"We get to sleep?" Rosalie asked incredulously.

"Yes, but be sure you get the right measurements, or you'll be out for days."

I don't know what I had expected, but it certainly hadn't been this. Edward, too, looked flabbergasted, though hopeful in the same moment. It reminded me of the wistful expression he had worn in the early days of our relationship, whenever we had discussed the matter of sleep.

"Will we dream?" he asked quietly, his eyes fixed to potions master.

"Yes, your mind will still be active. You should have more control over your dreams than us humans, but it won't be total. Your subconscious will have a hand on the reins as well."

"Are there any side-effects?" I questioned, alerting Slughorn to my presence. I doubted that he had noticed me before now—he had been so focused on the vampires.

"Ah, Miss Swan, I didn't see you there. No, no—nothing to worry about. It's just little things. I understand that, as vampires, you don't necessarily require oxygen; even so, you may experience the urge to yawn after waking, as the potion reawakens that particular human reflex. Also, there may be a little drowsiness in the morning when it begins to wear off.

"I think that covers everything," he said. "Any questions?" When nobody moved to speak, Slughorn rubbed his palms together and sent us on our way. "Spit-spot, off to the dormitory."

"I can't believe it," I mumbled as we approached the Fat Lady. "I thought for sure that you'd be up all night sneaking about the castle."

"So did I," Edward grinned, turning his attention to the portrait. The others held their breath, immersed in suspense as they waited for the next Hogwarts secret to be revealed. _"Virtus Magnus."_

"Right you are," the Fat Lady cried, swinging forwards to admit us, therby releasing the blare of music playing in her chambers.

I climbed through the circular hole, eager to join the party. Someone had turned the wizarding wireless to full blast, so that the songs of the Weird Sisters filled the air, provoking at least half the Gryffindors into energetic displays as they danced around the arm chairs, seeming completely carefree now that they were home.

Others were scattered about the room, some playing exploding snap and wizard's chess, or talking animatedly amongst themselves.

"Wow," Alice chimed, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. "I think I'm going to like it here."

"I think you will, too," I smiled, before heading towards the wizards and witches in my year.

Edward, Jasper and Emmett launched into a discussion with Ron, Seamus and Dean; Rosalie and Alice conversed with Hermione and Ginny, asking about classes and school routine; I, however, was more interested in acquiring information regarding Quidditch practice. Once again, Harry had been picked to lead the team, so he gave me all the necessary information on try-outs, informing me of the days he was planning on booking the pitch.

Eventually, the Common Room began to empty, and I was certainly not the last to leave it—I'd been up extremely early that morning thanks to the massive time difference. To say I was tired would have been a bit of an understatement.

My old dormitory seemed to have expanded to fit the two extra beds that would belong to the female vampires. The other witches still hadn't retired when me, Rosalie and Alice entered the dorm; they were still having fun in the Common Room, not yet tired enough to attempt sleep.

"You know, when I packed pyjamas," Alice said, extracting a pair of silky shorts from her case, "I only did it so that we could mingle in better with everyone else. I never thought we'd actually be sleeping in them!"

"Did you pack for the boys?" I asked, slipping into the deep blue bottoms she had insisted I bring.

In fairness, they were warm as well as pretty. Silver ribbon had been sewn along the waistband and around the foot holes. There was also a matching top with long sleeves.

"I packed some sweats for them."

I nodded, folding my clothes into a neat pile and placing them at the foot of my bed.

"Ok, I'm going to go and say good night to Edward. Are you two coming?"

"I thought we weren't allowed in their dormitory," said Rosalie.

I felt a sharp pang as I realised she looked just as beautiful in pyjamas. She made elasticated pants and spaghetti straps look like runway fashion.

"They're not allowed in ours, but we can go in theirs."

"Oh, right—fair enough."

The three of us headed back down to the Common Room and over to the boys' staircase, climbing until we reached the correct dormitory. Rosalie knocked on the door, speaking at her usual volume.

"It's us. Can we come in?"

The second she fell quiet the door opened, and there stood Edward, looking effortlessly glorious in a pair of grey sweats and a white vest. He held the door open as the girls strolled inside to join their counterparts, shutting it lightly after I had crossed the threshold. Like our dormitory, the boys' seemed to have expanded too.

"We came to wish you good night," Alice said, her arms secured around Jasper's neck.

"And sweet dreams," Rosalie finished, winking at her husband as she pulled him gently onto the bed.

"So I guess this means we're potioning-up first?" he smiled, pouring the blue liquid into three separate shot glasses.

Rosalie nodded, whilst Alice crossed over to Emmett's bedside table, taking the two extra glasses and passing them to the Jasper and Edward, who climbed into bed after receiving their share.

"Bottoms up," said Emmett, raising his glass into the air.

"Cheers," the other two said in unison, before all three brought the shots to their lips and swallowed the contents in one—like they would a Tequila Slammer.

Edward placed his glass on his own bedside table, pulling his covers around us as he waited for the magic to take effect.

"I haven't slept in almost a century," he smiled, running his fingers through my hair. "I wonder what I'll dream about."

"You'll have to let me know in the morning," I murmured, noticing how his breathing was beginning to slow.

"Hmm," he said, his eyelids sagging slightly. "I think it's already starting to work. My brain feels … fuzzy."

"Wrackspurts," I whispered, feeling the corners of my mouth twitching upwards.

"Yeah… I think they got in." He was nearly as articulate as usual as he fought the stupor. It was actually quite an endearing thing to see—the way his eyelids fluttered shut, and his smile shrunk until only a ghost of it remained on his pale lips. He looked vulnerable in sleep, and more peaceful than I had ever seen him. For the very first time, I could understand why Edward had enjoyed watching me slumber every night; if I hadn't been so tired, I would have stayed with him for hours.

Unfortunately, I was only human, and I was absolutely exhausted. I slid from beneath the covers, gently pulling them back up once my feet were on the cold floor.

"They look so peaceful, don't they?" Rosalie asked, echoing my earlier thoughts. She was lovingly stroking Emmett's hair, gazing on in wonderment at her sleeping husband.

Alice's expression mirrored that of her sister.

"They almost look like ordinary boys," she said, after kissing Jasper on the forehead and slipping from his side. "I like seeing them like this."

"Me too," Rosalie admitted, taking one last look at Emmett before turning back to Alice and me. "Well, I guess we should get back. The longer we leave it, the longer they'll have to wait for us to wake up."

Alice and I agreed, and the three of us slinked from the room, leaving the sleepers to weave happy dreams.

**A/N: I hope you don't mind that I put all the Cullens into the same House. I wanted to keep them together to make sure I have lots of stuff to write about.**

**Here's the latin I used for this chapter:**

_**Plico volucris: Plico = fold; volucris = bird.**_

_**Virtus Magnus: Virtus = Courage; Magnus = Big.**_

**I hope you liked it anyway. I plan on having some fun with the next bit. It'll probably seem like the Cullens are on LSD or something with the dream sequences. Please let me know what you think. All critcism is welcome!**


	11. The Dreamer

**A/N: Hello peoples! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my work – you make me smile and provide essential motivation. It's like literacy breakfast. Sorry if there are lots of grammatical errors in this chapter. Me and my dad have had a few drinks. I'm barely tipsy, but my concentration is ebbing. We were joking about quite a few things as well, so I was laughing hysterically whilst writing the last half of this. I know there's no reason to tell you this, but… meh. (I love that word.) Enjoy!**

**EPOV**

The shadows were pressing in on me. I couldn't understand it. Why was it so black? Where was I? Everything felt heavy—heavy and claustrophobic. I couldn't move, I couldn't see, and I couldn't feel. Was this death, then? Had I fallen into oblivion? I tried to press my eyes shut, but I couldn't feel my lids to close them in the first place.

And then I heard a familiar voice calling to me through the darkness.

"Edward," it said softly, "darling, are you listening?"

Suddenly, my vision cleared, the golden light of the room illuminating the scene around me, as I stared into a pair of lovely eyes, green like lagoon waters. They were gazing at me expectantly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What do you think?" my mother asked in a murmur, her voice tinted with intrigue.

"About what?" I questioned, tediously scanning the ballroom from left to right, taking in the couples twirling gracefully at its centre. The hall was filled the dozens upon dozens of elegant young debutantes and socialites, all hoping to find an accomplished, wealthy bachelor to attach themselves to.

"About Miss Addington. Surely you haven't forgotten her already."

"Addington… as in Julia Addington?"

"Yes," my mother smiled in relief, "that's her—over there."

She nodded towards a group of girls, each of whom were clothed in white dresses of lace and silk—the usual satin ribbon adorning their waists. Amongst them, I distinguished the girl my mother was referring to. All in all, she had a very pretty face; it had certainly lost that childish roundness since the last time I had looked upon it, the cheekbones now prominent beneath the pair of baby-blues.

The Addingtons had been neighbours to my father, my mother, and me for the last eight years. I had never really paid their daughter much interest during my childhood. The reason for that hadn't been the two year age gap, but her voice. It had irritated me beyond belief, not because of the sound—in all honesty, it had had a very nice tone to it—but because she had used it to talk about the most maddening topics. I remembered encountering her one day on a trip to the park with my mother. She had been with hers, too, and whilst the adults had engaged in their conversation, she had prattled on about her nanny—'the help', as she preferred to refer to her as— speaking of the woman as if she was an imbecile.

Naturally, I had never warmed to Julia Addington, so I hadn't been put out when she had gone off to school to perfect her manners and prepare herself for married life.

She smiled sweetly from across the room, waving gently after catching sight of me and my parents.

"Doesn't she look lovely, Edward?" my mother smiled.

"She looks nice," I nodded, hoping that I wouldn't be forced to talk to the girl. I felt ashamed—she'd probably grown into a charming young lady, but my gut told me otherwise.

"Oh, look, she's coming over."

_How wonderful_.

I knew my mother wanted nothing more than for me to find a reason to stay in Chicago—someone or something that would avert my thoughts from the war in Europe, the promise of glory waiting beyond the boundaries of the superficial bourgeois society. The possibility that that could be Miss Addington only served in fuelling my mother's enthusiasm.

"Mr and Mrs Masen," Julia said, using the pretence of greeting my parents to get close to me, "how lovely to see you."

"It's a pleasure to see you, too, Julia," my father smiled. "How was school?"

"Instructive."

_That's kind of implied with the name._

"I find myself hungry for cultural experience… "

_Shopping trips with mother._

"Art… "

_Shoes and dresses._

"Architecture…"

_My future husband's estate._

"Those kind of things."

"That's only to be expected," my mother agreed.

I frowned—was I the only one not buying this?

"And how have you been, Edward?" Julia asked, her eyes landing on me. The pout she wore was subtle—some may even have gone as far to call it alluring. I wondered how much it had cost her.

"Aren't you going to ask Julia to dance, Edward?" my father asked, before leading my mother out onto the floor for the waltz.

"Well, Edward," she smiled, "_are _you going to ask me, or do youintend on ignoring me all night?"

Her question made me feel the total opposite of a gentleman. I was being rude.

And so I held out my hand, waiting for her to offer me her own, before I led her to the centre of the room, where we joined the other twirling couples. The second it started I wanted it to be over. Every time Julia opened her mouth to inform me how completely she had change since our last meeting, I found myself searching for the subtext—the true meaning behind her words.

I tried to seem cheerful and interested in the ensuing minutes, but the longer we danced, the more I felt like I was missing something vital… something I needed to remember.

And that was when I saw _her._

She was standing in the shadows at the edge of the room, walking slowly around the perimeter, dressed entirely in black. Unlike the other ladies, who all seemed to have arranged their hair into tidy styles to meet the current fashion, the mystery girl's thick, mahogany hair was straight and unpinned, though full of body as it fell to her waist. The way the front and sides swept back gave her the appearance of someone who had spent the day standing in a gale.

The dark dress flowed over the contours of her body until it reached her waist, where it loosened to form a fluid skirt that touched the floor. The thin material looked like some kind of silk-satin hybrid; it had a metallic quality about it, yet moved like liquid as she walked. It was full sleeved, the fitted fabric fanning out just above the wrists to form thick, folded cuffs. And yet, for all that, the entire thing was completely unadorned: no fastenings or ribbons; no brooches; no patterns of any kind. It was simple in all the right ways.

My eyes travelled to her face, but I was denied the pleasure of seeing it in full, for the girl had hidden it behind a hand-held Venetian-style mask. The only parts completely unobscured were her blood-red lips, the upper one a little too full to match the lower.

I had never seen a sight more beautiful or inviting in my entire life. Every time the dance required a change of direction, my head turned to follow her, afraid that she would disappear if I looked away.

"Edward," Julia said, reminding me of her presence, "what are you looking at?"

In my periphery, I saw her following my line of sight, focusing in on the stunning creature who had captured my heart so thoroughly.

"Oh," she uttered, the word infused with disgust, "her."

"Who is she?" I asked immediately, desperate for answers.

"She's a witch," Julia spat. "She weaves her magic to make men fall in love with her."

"Perhaps it has nothing to do with magic," I murmured automatically, as if in a trance. "Maybe it just because she's extraordinarily beautiful."

The second my words were out, Julia pulled me to a stop, her eyes burning with fury as she shifted her focus from the enchantress back to me. Then, without saying a word, she stomped away from me, back towards her equally self-important friends. I barely gave her a second's thought as I walked in the direction of the_ girl._

She watched me approach from behind her mask, all the while wearing an expression that was slightly amused, yet hinted at some deeper emotion. I only stopped when a foot or so separated us.

She didn't speak; nor did I—not because I was afraid or couldn't think of anything to say, but because I didn't feel the need to do so. Whatever it was that was happening—the strange electric current that seemed to be alternating back and forth between our bodies—it felt natural… normal, and I certainly didn't want to spoil it by filling the air with needless talk.

I slowly reached for her hand, sliding my fingers over it until it was encased by my own, before I gently forced her arm to lower, unmasking her face so that I could see it in all its glory.

Her dark eyes were bewitching—two unfathomable depths of rich chocolate-brown, framed by long, dark lashes. They were striking against her porcelain skin and lips. Everything about her was striking.

Then, just as I was about to ask her her name, she brought from behind her back a shiny red apple, lifting it upwards until it was level with her neckline.

"Are you tempted?" she asked mysteriously.

I looked from her face to the fruit, and began tracing my eyes along its curves, taking in its rich, mouth-watering colour whilst I pondered her question. I could imagine how it would taste, and I realised that I wanted nothing more than to tear through the membrane—to be the one to take the first bite.

"Yes," I answered simply, my voice rough with desire.

The girl gave a victorious smile, before raising the apple to my mouth, waiting for me to make the next move. I lowered my head, licking my lips in anticipation, and just as I was about to force my teeth through the skin, an almighty crash from above demanded my attention.

My head snapped upwards—eyes fixed to the ceiling, where the large glass dome was shattering into a thousand pieces as a figure clad in black descended through the air. The people filling the room didn't seem to notice, even as the shards rained down upon them. It was like they were living on a separate plain, existing alongside another which only I seemed aware of.

I quickly realised that the man wasn't falling, but was lowering himself on a wire, slowing as he neared the ground. A full bodysuit covered his bulky, muscular frame: only his icy, blue eyes and the thin strip of skin surrounding them were visible. Even his hair and mouth were covered.

"Where did he go?" he demanded, his gaze landing on me.

"Where did who go?"

"The Red Warrior! I know he came through here. I can't lose him!"

I was completely baffled by the strange man's words. I'd never heard of this _Red Warrior, _but he certainly sounded dangerous.

"He has an accomplice," he continued, "named the Green Warrior."

"What do they look like?"

"I think they're Italian. They both have thick black moustaches and big noses. The Green Warrior is the taller of the two, and wears a hat bearing the letter L, which stands for _Lord_, because his true name is Lord Green. The other wears a hat bearing the letter M, for he is Master Red."

There was only one explanation for all of this, I suddenly realised—either the stranger was insane… or I was.

I turned to face the girl, ready to ask her whether or not she was seeing and hearing the same crazy things as me, but when I looked she had vanished entirely.

"Where did she go?" I asked, spinning back to the ninja. I jumped upon noticing that his eyes had disappeared, but then I realised they were just masked by a pair of night vision goggles, which was exceedingly strange considering that it was 1918 and we were inside a brightly lit room.

"Over there!" he cried, pointing somewhere over my shoulder.

I spun in an instant, my eyes flying to the doorway where I caught a flash of green and red, though it was only for the briefest moment imaginable. I had no idea who the two warriors were; the only thing I _did _know was that the girl was missing, and as far as I could tell, she was no longer in the hall. If there was even the slightest chance that Lord Green and Master Red had kidnapped her, I would track them to the ends of the Earth.

"Let's go," I said, running for the exit with all the speed my legs could muster.

"You're not coming!" the stranger exclaimed.

"Like hell I'm not! They took the girl and I want her back!"

I was faster than the dark ninja, though he was surprisingly agile for his size.

We burst through the doors into the cold, night air, our heads flying this way and that as we searched for any sign of the villains, but the only thing I found was a glass slipper, discarded on the sidewalk like an empty cigarette packet. I reached down to pick it up, and the second I touched it I knew that it had belonged to _her._

"This is no good," growled the ninja, reaching up to tear the material from his head. In doing so, he revealed his thick, dark curls and snowy, white skin, as well as two dimples on either side of his mouth. I recognised his face, but for some reason I couldn't place it. He began inhaling deeply through his nose, his eyes closing in concentration, flying open in the next second as he set off running towards a black Lamborghini.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to follow them."

"How will you know if you're going the right way?" I asked, climbing in the passenger side and slamming the door shut.

"I have phenomenal senses—that's all you need to know."

"Oh," I said weakly, trying to stop the leather seat from eating me as we raced along the road, neither of us sure of our destination.

The ninja had lowered the window and had proceeded to hang his head out into the open air, his expression changing whenever he discovered something to confirm he was on the right trail.

I don't know how long we drove. It could have been hours; maybe it was only minutes. Eventually, I decided to stop prolonging the inevitable, and asked him why he had begun his pursuit of the two warriors in the first place.

"They stole my star," he snarled, beating a fist against the dash board.

My eyes lingered on the dint he had left there.

"Not so long ago, my love and I were sharing a moonlit picnic. It was a very clear night and we saw a shooting star streaking across the sky as it fell to Earth. To prove the extent of my affections, I vowed to find the star and bring it back. And I did.

"My love was overjoyed and agreed to marry me, but the night before the wedding, the star was stolen. My fiancée saw it as a bad omen; she convinced herself it was a sign that we were destined to have a terrible marriage, so I proclaimed that I would hunt down the star and bring it home to ensure us a prosperous future."

"Wow," I answered, immersed in his tale, "that's not the kind of thing you hear about everyday. What did the star look like?"

I had expected him to confirm my theory and tell me that it was nothing more than a small lump of rock, but, instead, he looked at me like I was the world's biggest ignoramous and enunciated the words, "Star-shaped and yellow."

We fell into silence after that, neither of us breaking it until a flash of lightening lit the sky and a crack of thunder sounded above us.

"DAMN IT!" the man bellowed, as torrents of rain began splattering onto the windshield. "How am I supposed to track them now?!"

"We could wait for the storm to pass," I suggested.

"And allow the scent to wash away? I don't think so."

He opened his car door and climbed out, slamming it shut before sprinting off into the desert.

_Desert… _I thought, _we're in a desert now?_

I sighed and unlatched my seatbelt, leaving the Lamborghini behind and chasing off after the ninja. Unfortunately, his dark suit provided the perfect camouflage in the blackness of the night, making it impossible for me to see him through the sheets of rain. When I finally decided to admit defeat and end my hunt, I began searching instead for the car, but I had no idea which direction was which.

I must have walked for hours upon hours, because the storm eventually cleared and the darkness lifted with the rising sun, giving me a clearer indication of my location.

In a word, I was _nowhere_.

The landscape was nothing but a flat, sandy expanse that stretched on for miles in every direction. I had no idea how I had managed to end up here, when only the night before I had been standing in a ballroom in Chicago. This was certainly _not _Illinois; it looked more like Texas, but surely I hadn't come so far already?

"Put 'em up!" a voice ordered from behind me.

I spun automatically, hoping that my eyes would find the ninja.

But it wasn't the ninja: it was a golden haired man straddling a magnificent brown stallion, and he was aiming a gun straight at my chest.

"I said… put 'em up!"

I did as I was told, raising my hands above my head like a common criminal.

Despite the fact that the man was clearly a local, judging by his outfit, his skin held no hint of a tan: it was as snowy as the ninja's had been, whilst his eyes were a piercing grey.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, scanning my body for weapons.

"I… I'm trying to find the Red and Green Warriors."

"Are you working for them?!" he demanded, flicking off the safety catch and preparing to fire.

"No," I insisted suddenly, hoping it was the right answer. "They took the girl. I have to rescue her!"

The cowboy lowered his pistol instantly, his face softening slightly.

"I know where to find them," he said, before bring two fingers to his lips and whistling loudly.

The second the sound had exited his mouth, an army of riders came galloping our way, all clothed in similar garments: cowboy hats and leather boots—like they had just sprung out of a Western. The man whistled again, though it was nowhere near as loud as the first, calling to his side a beautiful black horse which he then offered me.

"These two warriors… do they have big noses and thick, black moustaches?"

"Yes," I responded, recalling the ninja's description as I climbed onto the stallion's back.

The cowboy shook his head in disgust, and said, "They arrived in town not so long ago, and drove me out so that they could claim it for their own." I felt my brow furrow in confusion, but it relaxed when I caught sight of the shiny, gold star pinned to his chest: he was the Sheriff. "So I travelled to neighbouring towns to seek help. My men and I are heading back to put a stop to their terrorising. If you want to get the girl back, you'll have to follow us."

"I'm ok with that."

He kicked the horse into movement then, picking up speed whilst I followed on behind him. I pushed the horse faster and faster in my desperation to reach the town. God only knew what those monsters wanted with the girl! Perhaps they were after the apple. They couldn't have it—she'd offered it to me. I wanted it!

"We're almost there," the Sheriff cried.

No sooner had he made the announcement than I caught sight of a smudge on the horizon. It started off small at first, growing with time until it resembled a distant settlement. We slowed when we reached the edges, advancing carefully to prevent an ambush. It was nothing but a long street, buildings constructed of wood and red brick on either side. Although there were no people to be seen outside, every single window pane in sight had at least half a dozen faces pressed against the glass, all waiting to view the outcome of our arrival.

The Sheriff hissed beside me, causing my head to instantly snap in his direction. He was looking ahead at something, and when I turned to follow his line of sight, my eyes focused in on a figure standing in the middle of the street about twenty metres away. My stomach tightened as I analysed his appearance.

He was wearing blue dungarees over a bright green sweater. His hands were covered by white gloves, and upon his head he wore a hat bearing the letter L.

_The Green Warrior._

"Well, well, well… I see you brought e team to fight us off-e," he said in a thick Italian accent. "My brudder end I will not-e stand for dis."

"WHERE'S THE GIRL?!" I roared, wanting nothing more than to snatch the Sheriff's gun and finish Lord Green myself.

"Di girl? What girl?

"Don't give me that! I know that you know!"

"Know dat I know what?"

"About the girl!"

"Ah, yes," he nodded, "di girl."

"Where is she?!" I demanded.

"Oh, she left."

"Left? What do you mean 'she left'? You just let her go?"

"No," Lord Green said offhandedly, "she disappeared into thin-e air… like e boobble—pop! Pop she went."

"I don't understand," I admitted, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"She is e sorceress, no? Dat was what she said anyways."

"Why did you take her?" I asked, my concern for the girl and her apple soaring.

"My brudder end I needed her magic to help us break into di castle."

"Castle? What castle?"

The green warrior pointed westward, directing our eyes over the wooden buildings towards a colossal stone fortress, its highest tower lost in thick grey clouds. Funnily enough, they seemed to be restricted to that one area, for the sky overhead was clear and bright.

"You-e cannot go in," Lord Green continued. "My brudder needs-e time to complete 'is work. You would only interfere."

"It doesn't matter," the Sheriff growled, "I want you out of this town right now!"

"I'm efraid dat is not en option."

"I'll decide what _is_ and what _is not_ an option," he answered, jumping out of the saddle. "Either you agree to a shoot-off, or I put a bullet through your head right now."

"If-e dat is 'ow you want it, den dat is what you'll-e get."

The two stood glaring at each other, waiting whilst the rest of us had moved off to the sides. A tumbleweed blew from one side of the road to the other as they stared into one another's eyes, both readying themselves for the coming fight. Then, the two pivoted on their heels and took ten steps, both heading in opposite directions. On their last pace, they spun back on one another, drawing their guns so quickly their movements almost blurred, before releasing a stream of bullets, both of them shooting to kill.

I never found out who the victor was—I had already slipped away before anyone took a bullet. Though I prayed the Sheriff would come through, I knew I needed to get to the castle before the duel finished just in case things went badly. This was my best chance to make it there.

It was actually a lot closer than I had originally suspected, and took me only a few minutes to reach on foot. I pelted through the gates and up the hill, sprinting along the winding path and over the stone bridge. I didn't hesitate at the door; instead, I ran straight through, entering into a sizeable hall. Excluding the many doors lining the walls, the carpeted staircase, and the octagonal rug laid out on the black and white chequered floor, the entire thing was completely empty. A blue sky dotted with clouds had been painted onto the walls, along with rows of trees that made up the bottom half.

I was stumped. I had no idea which way to turn next. The Red Warrior could be hiding behind anyone of these doors, and there were certainly too many rooms for me to explore them all. I was just about to set off through the closest one when a cry from the second floor demanded my attention.

"NO!" someone roared. "IT'S MINE!"

I hurtled up the stairs, stopping when I reached a set of large double doors, one of which had been left ajar. Being careful as to avoid detection, I slowly peeked through the crack, my lungs constricting with panic as I caught sight of the dark ninja locked in combat with a man who was, without a doubt, the Red Warrior.

"It's-e not yours; it's-e mine!"

"You stole it!" the ninja cried, aiming a kick to his opponent's head. "You're a thief!"

He hit his mark, causing the Red Warrior to stumble backwards. He was wearing a matching uniform to that of his brother. The only difference between them was that he was shorter and bulkier than the Green Warrior; plus, his sweater was a vivid scarlet. I made to step through the door, ready to run to the ninja's assistance, but an impossible sight stopped me in my tracks.

_I've officially cracked,_ I thought. _I've actually gone insane._

Maybe I was still in Chicago in a mental hospital, and all of this was just some wild illusion my brain had cooked up to keep me occupied… because there was no way in the world that there could ever be such a thing as a creature that was half man, half mushroom. And yet… there it was, scuttling across the floor, its arms raised in panic as its friend took a beating. The red and white spotted fungus on top of its head almost resembled a hat, but it seemed a little too realistic to be some kind of eccentric accessory.

After regaining his balance, the Red Warrior shot forwards, his right fist smashing into the ninja's jaw with an almighty crack.

"Yaaaaay!" cried the Mushroom.

Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I watched him clap his hands and dance around. Just as Master Red was about to make another right hook, I burst through the door, reacting instinctively as I dove forwards and wrapped an arm around the mushroom man's neck. It let out a strangled cry in shock, effectively stopping the Red Warrior mid-swing.

"Make one more move," I growled menacingly, "and I'll take a bite out of your little friend."

The man raised his hands slightly, as if preparing to try and calm the situation.

"Dat is not-e such e good idea. He is en hallucinogenic."

"Well… all the more fun for me," I argued weakly. "You have to give the ninja back his star!"

"Please, you don't-e understand. I need di star."

"Why? So you can sell it and get rich?"

"No!" he insisted. "I-e need its powers to save-e di Princess."

"What Princess?" the ninja asked, concern suddenly colouring his tone.

"Di Princess dat was kidnapped by di evil giant turtle. He's-e going to force her to marry 'im."

There was a long pause, which was eventually broken by a heavy sigh.

"Well, this changes things," said the ninja.

"How do we know you're not lying?" I asked quickly, eyeing the Master Red; but despite my question, my hold around the mushroom man's neck loosened.

The Red Warrior's expression turned thoughtful for a minute, before he turned full on to face his opponent.

"How ebout we-e make e deal?"

"Go on."

"I cannot give up di star until I 'av recued di Princess," the Italian master confessed carefully, "but if you were to come-e wid me, I could-e give it to you afterwards."

The ninja relaxed from his fighting stance, assuming a more natural pose.

"You swear that… if I help you defeat this… turtle, you'll give me back my star?"

"I e-swear on all dat is holy."

The ninja took a deep breath and said, "Alright, I'll help you. How do we find this evil, giant turtle?"

"He's-e up-a stairs. Follow me!"

"Wait," I cried, before either of them had the chance to run away, "what about the girl? Do you know where she went?"

"Of course," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "she's-e behind you."

I stood frozen like a statue, unable to turn around whilst the Red Warrior, the ninja and the mushroom ran off towards a gigantic set of stairs and finally out of sight. My feet seemed to be rooted to the spot, as if hundreds of vines had sprung from the soles of my feet and had worked their way through the floor, preventing any form of movement whatsoever.

I strained my ears, but the only sound I could detect was that of my own heavy breathing. Slowly but surely, however, strength crept back into my limbs, the weight diminishing so that it no longer seemed as though my shoes were filled with concrete. Finally, I turned back to face the doors.

And there she was, head tilted slightly to the side, smiling mischievously.

"Hello," I said, sighing with relief.

She didn't answer, she merely grinned more widely, waiting for me to approach. I walked forwards, my feet now seeming to move of their own accord, travelling towards the girl like a moth to a flame. When we were so close that we were practically touching, I felt my expression turn accusatory as I remembered her abrupt departure from the ballroom.

"You ran."

"Only because you forced me to," she argued softly, the smile still lighting her features.

"What are you talking about?" I asked suddenly, unnerved by her strange allegation. "I didn't force you to do anything."

"Really?" she challenged, before drawing the unbitten apple from behind her back once again and holding it up to my lips.

I couldn't make sense of her cryptic ways. What exactly was she trying to tell me?

I looked from the girl to the apple, to the girl, and then back the apple. It looked so… appealing… so delicious… so unbelievably, completely and utterly tempting. In those few seconds, everything else seemed to evaporate—every worry, every concern, the world even—leaving only the two of us behind.

I inhaled the apple's scent, and my mouth watered as I allowed it to overtake my senses. Now, with my lips and tongue skimming its shiny, crimson surface, I prepared to bite through, prolonging that last maddening moment of luscious anticipation, and then…

I froze.

A little way off—just over the girl's shoulder—was a mirror. My eyes caught on it; more specifically, on my reflection. I was barely recognisable: my skin was the colour of snow, the soft pink of my cheeks now completely drained, whilst two purple shadows hung beneath a pair of hungry, onyx eyes.

My head snapped up instantly, all thoughts of the fruit still resting in the girls hand now completely forgotten. I looked down at my palms, but found that they were a soft peach, nowhere near to the shade the mirror painted them.

"I told you," the girl said, her expression amused, though her eyes betrayed her irritation.

"I still don't understand," I admitted, my gaze settling back on my reflexion.

"Go and take a closer look," she instructed, flicking her head at the mirror.

I obeyed, reaching the frame in three strides.

_Is that me?_ I thought, stroking along the surface with the back of my fingers. There was no resistance: the glass rippled like silvery liquid—like liquid mercury—distorting the image until it was nothing more than a mish-mash of colour. And, then, propelled by an unstoppable urge, I stepped through the looking glass, leaving the castle and the sorceress behind.

When I came out on the other side, the only thing there was golden mist. It was so impossibly thick that I couldn't even see the hand I held out in front of me. Luckily, it thinned with each and every stride I took, until it had all but vanished, giving me a clear view of the room I had somehow come to arrive in.

It was an exact replica of the ball room in Chicago, only this time it was empty, save for myself and the girl, who was sat in a Victorian armchair made of red velvet and mahogany.

She was wearing a white cotton t-shirt, blue jeans, and one Converse sneaker. The sight of her bare foot summoned a memory to the forefront of my mind. I reached for my pocket, searching for the glass slipper, but when my fingers found the item and I pulled it out, it was the exact match of the girl's navy sneaker.

"It's changed," I said automatically, observing the white laces and the logo star.

"So have you," she pointed out.

Sure enough, she was right. The colour had vanished from my skin, so that it now resembled white alabaster. Although there were no mirrors nearby, I knew what my eyes would look like if I were to peer into one: they would be jet black.

"Bella," I murmured, my eyes settling back on the girl.

"Edward," she smiled.

"This is a dream." She didn't reply, but her eyes held some encouragement, as if she wanted me to continue. "I always knew … at the back of my mind. I knew who you all were."

"Naturally," she nodded, "you're a vampire. You were bound to figure it out eventually."

"I'm still not sure what it all meant though: ninjas, cowboys, video games… what relevance do they have?"

I walked over and knelt before her chair, sliding her barefoot into the shoe, before my attention flitted back to her face, reading her expression as she launched into an explanation.

"You're fighting it Edward," she said mysteriously, rising from the chair.

"Fighting what?"

"I think you know. Don't you find it a little strange that Emmett came charging into your dream the very second you were about to take it?"

"Take what?"

Once again, the apple made it appearance. She cradled it between her palms whilst her eyes attempted to communicate some crucial point.

I was a little unsure how to respond. I couldn't deny that the brazen fruit had something irresistible out it—some impossible pull that became more and more difficult to refuse with each passing second; even so, I couldn't see how I was responsible for my ninja-brother's interruption.

"You were trying to fight it," she repeated. "That's why you jumped."

I didn't need her to elaborate this time; I already knew what she was trying to tell me.

"That was Emmett's dream I was seeing… He's dreaming that he's a ninja… a ninja hunting a star."

"You caught a glimpse of it," she nodded, "and incorporated it into your own story."

Now that I thought about it, I recalled that Rose had forced him to watch Stardust two nights before we had left for Hogwarts.

"Why Super Mario, though?" I questioned in puzzlement. "As far as I know, he hasn't played that game in over ten years."

She shrugged and said, "I guess the star was the link. They feature heavily in both. Don't ask me to try and understand how Emmett's dreams work. That concept is too terrifying for anyone to handle."

"And Jasper," I smirked, "is he really dreaming about being a cowboy?"

Bella grinned wickedly.

"That's brilliant," I laughed, shaking my head, "though potentially problematic. I doubt I'll be able to look at either of them and keep a straight face."

"True," she chuckled, "but you're still avoiding the issue."

For the third time, she raised the apple to my lips, cocking an eyebrow as she did so.

"You don't have to be such a gentleman inside your own head, you know."

I bit my lip.

"It's just a fantasy," she smiled. "Everybody has them."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled.

"So what's the problem?"

_My self control, _I thought, wondering how I'd fare in my waking hours if I indulged in such things during sleep. Denying Bella was already hard enough; surely this would just make it more difficult. If I gave in now, would I be able to last another year? But, then again… that apple really did look exceptionally delicious. One quick bite, maybe? What could it hurt?

For the last time, I pressed my lips to its skin, ready to slice my teeth through to the pulp. It seemed to have a life of its own—I could almost feel it pulsing with excitement.

My breathing accelerated as I inhaled the heady scent. I couldn't resist. I didn't want to resist. I wanted to… to…

The next thing I knew… I was on the other side of the room, my back to Bella as I pressed my face against the wall, attempting to regain some sense of composure. It took everything I had not to run across the hall and snatch the apple from her grasp. It was almost as difficult as trying to resist the call of human blood—another siren call.

_But you want it,_ said the devil on my shoulder. _Why shouldn't you have it? The girl's right—everyone has a fantasy. Bella has one. You can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. You can even smell it on her._

_Don't, _said the gentlemanly angel, _don't listen. Breaking now is fine, but what if that leads to a slip in the real world. You're a vampire; she's a human. You could hurt her._

_I _could_ hurt her._

That was all it took for my sensible side to win out. I inhaled a series of deep, calming breaths, refusing to turn until I had regained a suitable level of control. When I had, I saw that the apple had vanished, though Bella remained. She was wearing that half-amused half-irritated expression again.

Shaking her head, she sighed, "You'll break eventually, you know—sooner rather than later."

"I don't doubt that," I said, slowly walking back towards her.

We stared at each other for the longest time, immobile like statues, before I finally pulled her body against mine, taking both of her hands and placing one of them on my shoulder.

"What are we doing?" she asked nervously, her eyes narrowing as the room filled with the sound of her lullaby.

"Dancing," I smiled, "and you're not allowed to complain. This is _my _dream, and I command you to enjoy it."

"As you wish," she replied, grinning widely as I pulled her into the flow of the music. She moved and twirled as gracefully as any vampire; despite that, I had to admit… I found Bella's real life clumsiness completely endearing. That was one of the benefits of having lightning quick reflexes: I always caught her.

Flying with her in this way was certainly one definition of heaven—the feeling of total freedom and weightlessness was incredible. In all my human years, I was sure I had never had a dream as vivid and wonderful as this. In terms of sight and sound, it could have been real. Everything was so unbelievably clear.

I don't know how much time passed whilst we danced across the marble floor, but, eventually, the soft candlelight began to grow dimmer, diminishing more and more until the darkness was pressing in on us on all side. Just before it had the chance to swallow us both, Bella pressed her lips to mine in a gentle kiss. Although my sense of touch wasn't exactly active in dream land, I still felt a tingle—a subtle electricity—with even the slightest contact. I suppose that was a product of the craving I constantly had for her.

"Until next time," she whispered, before we were consumed by the shadows.

I tried to hold onto her. I tried to fight against the black, desperately clinging to the dream world, already finding myself addicted. But no matter how hard I kicked against the current, I couldn't prevent it from dragging me back up through the deep water towards the surface.

Slowly but surely, I became aware of the familiar sounds—five steady beats in the near vicinity, accompanied by soft breathing.

I didn't want this. Everything still felt so heavy, so difficult. I knew I had to open my eyes, but doing so seemed like an impossible task. Forcing the van to stop had been far easier than this. Light attacked my eyelids, virtually screaming at me to open them.

_No… don't want to, _I thought, stubbornly reaching for my pillow and stuffing it over my face.

Clearly, the potion hadn't completely worn off, because I drifted in and out of consciousness in the next few minutes, constantly teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. Finally, however, the minds of those around me forced me out of my stupor.

_Go… away… light, _Emmett thought, pulling his covers over his head.

_Don't… like it, _Jasper thought, seeming just as slow as the rest of us this morning.

I yawned widely beneath my pillow, which felt very odd, but somehow managed to bring a strange sense of relief. I heard Emmett yawning too; it sounded like a sound a sleepy bear would make.

I eventually managed to open my eyes, allowing the evil light to assault them after I had removed the comforting pillow. It took a few seconds to adjust to it after experiencing the darkness for so long—I guess it was just another side effect. Was this really how a human felt in the morning? How did they ever manage to pull themselves out of bed? A part of my mind was still protesting.

_Nope. Nope, _it said, _I'm not doing it. No one can make me. I'm a vampire; if they try, I'll bite them._

I ignored that pesky, little voice and sat up, rubbing my eyes with both hands as I did so. When I removed them and squinted through my lashes, I saw that my brothers were doing the same—peering through the slits their eyelids formed whilst they battled with the morning light.

After a few minutes of disorientation, I felt a cheesy grin stretching across my face. It started out small at first—a gentle smile that grew and grew until the corners of my mouth were practically touching my eyes. Emmett and Jasper's expressions mirrored my own: both were sat in their beds, leaning against the wooden headboards, looking just as pleased with themselves as I was with myself.

Then, when our smiles were so wide that they threatened to split our faces down the middle, the three of us burst out laughing, totally unable to contain our amusement, even as our hoots disturbed the humans sharing the dorm.

"Uh? What?! What's going on?" Seamus blurted, shooting forwards.

The fact that he had a sock stuck to the side of his face just made us laugh harder.

**A/N: So what did you think? Did you realise what was going on before the end? Don't ask me how I managed to link Stardust with Mario. My mind is a bizarre place. Let me know what you thought. This chapter is quite different to anything I've really ever done in this story, so I'm eager to know how you all took it. Giggle! xxx**


	12. Milk teeth

**A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in ages. I've actually been suffering from a serious case of writer's block. Honestly, my mind has gone to mush in the last couple of weeks. I hope I've managed to pull it back. You'll have to let me know if you think I've recovered. Also, I know there were a few of you who weren't sure what the apple meant in the last chapter. I'm hoping it will be obvious by the end of this one. Edward's dreams are actually pretty important to the story. I'm trying to humanise him… as much as is possible anyway. Here it is:**

**BPOV**

It was quarter past six when my eyes flickered open. I was the first to wake; the other witches were still sleeping snugly beneath their blankets, as were the vampires. I smiled at the sight of Alice: she was sprawled diagonally across the bed, her head falling backwards as it dangled over the edge. Rosalie was laid on her front, her head buried beneath her pillow.

I quietly changed out of my pyjamas and into uniform, remaking my bed and fluffing the pillows, before tip-toeing to the door and sliding out onto the stairs.

Straight away, I recognised the laughter of the three male vampires coming from the Common Room. They each had their heads thrown back when I entered, obviously sharing their nightly experiences and finding obvious amusement in one another's stories.

"What's so funny?" I chuckled lightly, cheered by the positive atmosphere.

"Oh, the usual," Edward smiled, holding out his arm for me. "Jasper is now Sheriff Whitlock of the wild, wild west."

I automatically clamped a hand over my mouth at Edward's revelation. Jasper: a cowboy… really? The image my mind conjured was almost too funny for words. I pictured him in some kind of cheesy movie get-up: the spurs, the tooth pick, the chewed tobacco.

"Make fun all you want," he said, "but I out-drew everyone. I ruled the town. It was an awesome dream."

"Alice was a saloon girl," Emmett explained, evidently hoping to increase his brother's embarrassment. I don't think it had quite the desired effect. I seemed to be the only one displaying any signs of discomfort at the bold statement.

"At least my dream made sense," Jasper argued, "which is more than can be said for you two."

"Why, what happened?" I asked, unable to shake the overwhelming intrigue.

"Emmett dreamt that he was a ninja," Jasper continued, smirking wickedly. "He got sucked into the world of Nintendo, and ended up battling the Super Mario brothers to try and gain possession of a star."

"Don't ask," Edward advised at the sight of my lost expression—I had never harboured an interest for video games, so my knowledge of the characters was pretty limited. I followed his suggestion and waited for the empathic vampire to continue.

"And Edward's dream," he sniggered, "was more messed up than Emmett's and mine put together."

"Why?"

"Because, subconsciously, I kept tapping into theirs," my perfect boyfriend laughed. "Trying to understand my own was difficult enough; it was even worse having to sort it out from the stuff these two were cooking up."

"Don't blame us," Emmett cried in mock outrage, "you're the dream thief! If your own wasn't so boring—"

"It was anything but boring," Edward interrupted, though his voice remained soft, his features alight with a devilish grin.

My interest was already burning brightly after hearing of his brother's night-time adventures, but the hint of mischief which had briefly affected his expression sent my curiosity soaring. It was the equivalent of throwing an entire barrel of gun powder onto a blazing bonfire.

"What was your dream about?"

"You, mostly," he revealed, causing my heart to stutter madly before it regained its natural rhythm.

"Oooh, saucy," Emmett teased.

Edward ignored him, even when I turned the colour of a strawberry.

"You were this mystery girl… this sorceress… but you just vanished into thin air, so I had to go on this crazy journey to find you."

"What happened then?"

There was a slight pause. Edward's eyes drifted out of focus, and he was clearly seeing something the rest of us couldn't. After a few moments of silence, he seemed to become alert again to the room around him.

He coughed lightly—a redundant action—and said, "We… um… we danced."

I felt my eyes narrow. I didn't doubt his words, but there was something slightly evasive about the way he answered. It only served in strengthening my intrigue.

"Did she trip?" Emmett sniggered, his eye alight with a sudden hope.

"No, she was actually quite sure-footed."

"You must have known you were dreaming then," I said, ignoring Emmett's reference to my pitiful coordination.

"That part kind of gave it away," Edward playfully agreed.

I smiled, ready to request more information on his dream, but before I had the chance, the head of the three vampires turned in unison towards the stairs. Seconds later, Rosalie came walking into view. She was still wearing her pyjamas—soft pink bottoms and a white spaghetti-strap vest—as was Alice, who was slung over her sister's shoulder, her arms trailing lazily down Rosalie's back.

"What's wrong with her?" Jasper asked immediately, his voice overflowing with concern as he gazed on at his unconscious wife.

"Nothing's wrong with her," Rosalie answered, half-amused, half-irritated. "She woke up about a minute or so after I did, but evidently she's not a morning person, because she refused to move from her bed. She said she was staying there for the rest of the day, and then she went back to sleep."

Jasper stood and held out his arms, cradling the pixie-like creature after Rosalie had handed her over. I could barely contain my laughter—Alice was always so meticulous when it came to her appearance, but after a night's worth of lying in bed, her short, inky hair was sticking out at ridiculous angles. The others, too, seemed to share my amusement.

"Alice," Jasper said, trying to maintain a steady voice, "are you conscious?"

I don't think her response could be classified as English: it was just an incomprehensible groan.

"Talk about hamming it up," Emmett laughed.

"Shut your mouth," Alice yawned, shuffling further into her husband's embrace.

"Definitely not a morning person," Rosalie repeated, "but you're going to have to get up sooner rather than later if you want to look half decent on your first day."

"What are you talking about?" Alice muttered.

I took my wand from my pocket and conjured a mirror, holding it up so that Alice could see her reflection.

Once again, she released a lengthy groan, before she pulled herself up into a sitting position and began attempting to flatten her untidy hair.

"It's still marginally better than the mullet," she sighed.

"Mullet?" we all asked together, each of us confused the odd remark.

"I had one in my dream," she explained. "I was stood in a room made entirely of mirrors, so I could hardly escape it."

"What happened?" Jasper questioned.

"Well, I realised that it wasn't real—it was too long at the back for a start, so it wasn't difficult to work out that I was having a nightmare."

My smile grew. That was Alice's definition of a nightmare?

"Therefore, I allowed everything to unfold accordingly."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged and said, "I ended up in Death Valley, playing guitar and singing into a microphone. Millions of people were there to watch. I was a rock star."

"That's a terrifying thought," Edward joked, "—a freaky little vampire thrashing around on stage like a possessed maniac. Very Anne Rice."

"True," agreed Emmett, before turning his attention to Rosalie. "What about you, babe?"

"I was a mechanic," she giggled, "only I'd replaced my M3 with a space shuttle."

"Nice!"

"It really was. After tinkering with the engine, I launched out of the atmosphere."

"Did you land on the moon?"

"No," she smirked, "I hit light speed and travelled to the next solar system."

"It still would have taken you thousands of years to get anywhere," Edward pointed out.

"It was a dream," she reminded him. "I got there pretty quickly."

We spent the next hour discussing the dreams in greater detail. I still got the feeling that Edward was being purposefully elusive, but I wasn't about to call him on it.

Eventually, the Common Room began to fill as teens and youngsters crawled out of bed to ready themselves for the first day of school. Alice and Rosalie went to change into their uniforms, whilst I magically attached Gryffindor crests to the boys' robes.

At quarter to eight, we all climbed through the portrait hole and descended down the stairs for breakfast. Carlisle and Esme were already there in the Great Hall when we arrived, and waved happily at us as we walked along the table.

According to Edward, they too had been given sleeping draughts, though drinking wasn't actually compulsory for them like it was for their children.

"I wonder who the next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be," Hermione wondered, nibbling on a slice of toast. "And why weren't they at the feast?"

"Maybe they had other stuff to do," Ron suggested, before he shovelled a pile of eggs into his mouth.

"It hardly gives a good first impression though, does it?"

"I'm sure they had a good reason," Harry said, though he couldn't help but frown. I couldn't blame him; we hadn't exactly had the best luck when it came to Defence professors."

For breakfast, I had a glass of orange juice and two slices of toast smeared with marmalade. As I was finishing, Professor McGonagall approached us and began handing out our timetables. I sighed upon seeing that I had double potions first thing. Mondays, it seemed, would be my busiest day of the week, since I had everything except Herbology.

"Now," said Professor McGonagall, her eyes settling on the vampires, "which subjects will you be taking?"

"We'll all be taking Potions, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy… and Divination," said Alice.

At first I thought that I'd misheard her—Alice was the last person in the world who would need to take Divination, but McGonagall's next question confirmed that I had heard correctly.

"I thought you were a Seer, Miss Cullen."

"I am," Alice answered, "but my gift is sometimes limited. We've heard Firenze gives interesting lectures, and since we're restricted in the subjects we can take, it makes sense to try this one out as well. We would have liked to have taken Care of Magical Creatures, but I doubt that Hagrid would have thanked us for that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Very well," said Professor McGonagall, handing each of the vampires their paper, "You'll be with Miss Swan during your first lesson, so I will leave it to her to direct you to the dungeons. Good day."

She headed off then to see to a group of younger pupils. I distinctly heard one call out 'Muggle Studies,' whilst the rest nodded in agreement.

"It looks like Esme is going to have her hands full this year," Edward smiled. "The kids are dying to get into that class… except for the Slytherins, who are planning on avoiding it completely."

"Big surprise there," said Harry, rising from his seat.

The rest of us—excluding Ginny, who had a free period first thing—made to follow, rising from our places to head to our first lesson.

"Good luck, Esme," I said quietly, glancing back over my shoulder. Her eyes snapped in my direction, and she cracked a gleaming smile whilst waving us all goodbye.

We first returned to the Common Room to collect our things. After gathering our books and equipment, we then descended back to the ground floor and down the winding stair case leading to the dungeon.

It was as gloomy as ever, the only light in the corridors coming from the torches on the walls. I was assaulted by a shroud of sweet-smelling mist as I stepped into the Potions lab; it moved through the air in yellow swirls, overwhelming my senses with its citrusy scent.

"Come in, come in," Slughorn called, motioning us forwards with a wave of his hand.

As in sixth year, he appeared to have prepared a few batches of potion to demonstrate the kinds of things we would be studying. As I neared the cauldrons, I saw that the buttery mist was spewing from the centre one. The liquid emitted a faint glow, as if a miniscule sun had been dunked beneath the surface. I felt my curiosity flare, but distraction soon came in the form of Blaise and his comrades. Draco Malfoy was there too, but his expression wasn't leering; it was composed and neutral.

My fists clenched as I caught Pansy Parkinson sneering at me. She was standing beside my Slytherin rival, her hands snaking around his arm in a possessive sort of way. I guess he was her new fascination now that Draco seemed less inclined towards his infernal bullying.

She whispered something in his ear after casting malicious glances at Hermione and me. I distinguished a low hiss on my left, though it was so subtle I doubted it would have carried over to the Slytherins. I felt my brow furrow as I realised it had come from Rosalie. She had angled her body as if to shield me from the horrid bunch, so I quickly gathered that whatever they were saying had to pretty bad if they had managed to incite anger from her.

I was so shocked by the beautiful vampire's protective display that I hadn't noticed the shift in the mist's colour. Once I detected the alteration, however, I quickly realised that the smell had changed along with it. The soft yellow had become a sickly shade of green, luminous almost, whilst the sweet citrus had transformed into something bitter and infinitely more potent. I could practically taste the acidity on my tongue. The flavour was so sharp that it almost stung, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to give the Slytherins a piece of my mind. The mist circling Rosalie, on the other hand, was deepening to form a vivid red, one which provoked an even more painful sensation. It felt as if my mouth had suddenly been stuffed with flaming hot chillies, and I briefly wondered whether or not this was similar to what a hungry vampire would have to endure.

Fortunately, Jasper was there to calm the prickling atmosphere; the second he began to ease the tension, the green shade shifted to a soft blue, bringing with it a refreshing taste that reminded me of spring water.

"Thank you for that, Mr Hale," said Professor Slughorn knowingly. "I was beginning to worry for a second there."

Jasper's expression scrunched slightly, and he was evidently wondering how the Potions Master had known he had been utilising his gift. My eyes settled back on the middle cauldron, and I quickly realised the nature of its contents.

"Now," the Professor continued, "can anyone tell me what this potion is here?"

He waved a hand at the peculiar mix, which was gradually resuming its yellow tone. My hand shot into the air in the same moment that Hermione raised hers.

"Ah, Miss Swan?"

"It's Empatheia," I said confidently, remembering the information I had learnt during the Cullens' hunting trips, "a potion which gives the drinker the ability to sense the mood of those around them. It's easy to identify because it perceptibly responds to emotional climate, switching in colour, smell and taste to match it."

"Spot on," he answered, "and for extra points, can you explain its reactions so far?"

"The colours can have more than one meaning. You can tell the difference depending on taste and smell. A bright yellow often denotes optimism and a desire for knowledge. Green is usually a healing and compassionate colour, but when it's accompanied with a bitter flavour, it generally means animosity and… jealousy." I couldn't help but smirk as my eyes flicked to Pansy, who returned my gaze with a vicious glare. "Red suggests strong emotion, such as anger or passion, whilst a light blue is indicative of a more peaceful and calming atmosphere."

"Excellent," exclaimed Slughorn, "you're absolutely right, Miss Swan! Eight points to Gryffindor!"

I smiled lightly, though I couldn't help but blush as my eyes locked with Edward's. He was wearing an expression that was both amused and a little proud.

"Moving on… does anyone recognise this?" Slughorn motioned towards the cauldron on the left, its contents instantly recognisable.

"It's empty," Pansy enunciated slowly, as if speaking to someone who was mentally handicapped, earning herself a disapproving glance.

Once again, I raised my hand, as did Hermione.

"Miss Granger?"

"It's Celo Celeritas," she stated, "otherwise known as Secrecy Serum."

"Very good," said Slughorn. "And what does it do?"

"It renders the drinker invisible, and is used in manufacturing invisibility cloaks."

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor. As Miss Granger had already explained, Secrecy Serum causes invisibility; however, it's a very powerful substance, so anymore than a cap full will cause the effects to last for weeks, rather than hours. A thimble full is enough to ensure a few hours of concealment.

"Finally," he said, moving towards the last remaining cauldron, "would anyone care to identify this last one."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Emmett's head turn to look at Hermione and me. We didn't disappoint.

"Miss Swan?" asked Slughorn, his eyes gleaming expectantly.

"It's called the Draught of Youth," I stated, noting its creamy appearance. "It has roughly the same colour and smell as milk. The whiter the colour, the stronger the potion. By the looks of that one, I'd say that it would be used to get rid of wrinkles and grey hairs, rather than send the drinker back to their teens."

"Quite right," Slughorn nodded. "Another five points.

"The Draught of Youth is what you will be attempting to create today. I am looking for a potion as creamy as the one you see before you. If it is too white, it will be useless, unless of course your intention is to turn yourselves into toddlers.

"Now," he continued, a slow smile creeping onto his face, "as usual, we shall be having a little competition to kick-start the year. The individual who produces the best potion shall receive a prize… one vial of Empatheia!"

I instantly felt my posture straighten, my eyes focusing in on the middle cauldron, the contents of which were now turning an ambitious and determined shade of orange. Slughorn chuckled upon noticing the change, pleased that his speech had achieved the desired effect.

"Should _you_ win the challenge, Mr Hale, your reward shall instead be a vial of Celo Celeritas, though I'll expect you to use it respectfully."

Jasper nodded, his eyes filling with desire as he gazed over at the seemingly empty cauldron.

"You will find the recipe on page eighty-six of your textbooks. You have one and a half hours… off you go!"

I laced my fingers with Edward's and pulled him swiftly towards the lab desk I had sat at in my previous years. We unloaded our things and set up our cauldrons, before flipping our books open to the necessary pages.

"We don't have all these ingredients," Emmett said, scanning the list.

"The store cupboard will have everything we need," I told him.

Once we had retrieved all the components, we began following the recipe. After I had finished chopping my knot grass, I turned my attention to the unicorn horn which I was required to crush. The task made me even more envious of the vampires and their strength. It had taken Edward all of three seconds to turn his horn fragment to powder, whilst I was still grinding mine into dust after ten minutes of starting. I would have asked for his help, but his constant chuckling provoked a wave of stubbornness, and, instead, I began pounding the infuriating horn with renewed force. Finally, my angry bashing seemed to achieve the desired results. I added the horn to the cauldron and moved on to shredding the salamander skin.

My eyes scanned the room, relieved when I saw that the humans were all roughly at the same stage as me. The professor was currently walking along Harry's bench, observing the students at work.

My brow furrowed suspiciously as I caught sight of Pansy Parkinson standing before his desk. She had her back to me, and was hovering over the left cauldron, her body blocking it from view. She'd probably got it into her head that she'd catch a glimpse of the invisible liquid if she stared at it for longer enough.

_Idiot._

After another second or two, however, she turned away and wandered back to her bench, her empty hands sliding into her pockets.

My concentration settled back on my work as I realised that the vampires were all zooming ahead. I had only just started chopping up my flux weed and they were already finishing up, adding the last ingredient—rosemary—to their milky mixtures.

"Well, that wasn't so difficult," Edward smiled, stirring in the herb.

"Nothing is for you," I grumbled, glancing briefly at the creamy shade of his potion.

He chuckled once again, before running a finger gently up the side of my neck, causing my heart to stutter. My concentration faultered as he lowered his head to kiss along the trail he'd made. The other students didn't seem to notice; they were all too focused on the task for that. Unfortunately, however, the pink swirling mist which began circling the two of us seemed to alert Slughorn to our distracting emotions.

He couldn't help but smile as he said, "Now, now, you two, I think you had better focus on your potions; don't you? Oh dear, that is potent."

He wasn't wrong— a juicy strawberry flavour combined with a hint of cream accompanied the haze. The taste was overwhelming: it filled me with warmth and set my lips tingling, and it suddenly felt as if Edward's had some kind of magnetic pull. I struggled to break the connection, but a voice at the back of my head reminded me that this was neither the time nor the place.

"Youg love, ey," Slughorn laughed, before walking away to inspect the work of the other students.

I felt the blush seeping into my cheeks, which was only made worse by Emmett and Jasper's smirking.

Eventually, our time ended, just as I was stirring the last ingredient into the mixture. I breathed a sight of relief, thankful that I had finished in time. I knew immediately, though, that my potion wasn't good enough to win me the vial: it was only a couple of shades lighter than Slughorn's example, but when I looked over at Alice's, I saw that hers was identical to the original. If that didn't tell me all that I needed to know, her smug smile did: clearly, down here in the dungeons where there were no other magical beings to interfere with her visions, she had been able to create the perfect potion, seeing in advance how each thing she did would affect the outcome.

"Well, then," said Slughorn, rubbing his palms together, "let's have a look."

He approached the Slytherins first, his expression critical as he peered into each cauldron. "Hmm, a little too much horn, I think, Miss Parkinson. That's definitely far too white."

His expression was impressed as he turned his attention to the vampires and their work, especially when he came to Alice and Edward's. The latter had obviously been focused on reading his sister's mind the entire lesson, seeing in her thoughts how to concoct a winning sample, because they were both exactly the same shade. A huge smile spread across Slughorn's face as he peered at the creamy substances.

"Two clear winners!" he exclaimed loudly. "I suppose that means it's a tie."

The rest of us released a sigh of united disappointment, gazing on resentfully as the teacher went to retrieve the potion. He returned with two full vials.

"One vial will last a vampire approximately three days, so you don't have to take it all at once. All you need to do is add one part potion to two parts dragon's blood." Despite the fact that the vampires already had a basic knowledge of potion adaptation, they didn't interrupt the professor. "The magic in the blood helps to preserve the original powers of the potion. Empatheia is absorbed quite quickly, so you'll only have to leave it for about an hour before it's ready.

"Also, as I'm sure Mr Hale would advise you, use the potion when you know you're in a positive emotional environment. Empatheia is definitely an interesting and pleasant experience when it's taken under the right circumstances."

"Thank you," Edward and Alice said in unison, both eagerly accepting their prizes.

Slughorn nodded and walked away, before dismissing us all from class.

"Finally," Edward breathed as we climbed the spiral staircase, leaving the gloom of the dungeons behind us.

"Finally what?"

"Finally I won't have to rely on your eyes for once to work you out."

I blushed, my stomach filling with a sudden dread as I realised the embarrassment Edward's victory would bring about.

"That's why you spent the entire lesson in Alice's head," I accused.

"You caught that, huh?"

"It wasn't exactly difficult—your potions were identical."

He laughed and pressed his lips to my hair, "You really are far too observant."

I rummaged through my bag for my timetable as we reached the top of the stairs. The Cullens would be spending the next hour studying Arithmancy with Professor Vector, whilst I would be having Professor Fulplume for Transfiguration. I kissed Edward goodbye, wishing him luck with his lesson, before I left him to go to class.

Philomela Fulplume gave a brilliant first impression. She transformed into a nightingale and back again, before informing us that our main objective this year would be to achieve full Animagus status.

_Excellent._

We would be spending the first few weeks learning the theory and attempting transformation, though we would be expected to practice during our own time when the period came to an end.

"Becoming an Animagus is by no means an easy feat. The skill will be, perhaps, one of the most difficult you will be asked to learn during your time at Hogwarts. It requires extensive knowledge of the 'self', along with intense concentration.

"Shape-shifting can only take place if the witch or wizard is in touch with their strongest primal instinct, whether that be self-preservation—to scurry away from danger or attain the perfect camouflage—or to protect a greater unit through strength and offensive strategy.

"In summation, to alter form you must first understand your basic and original self, which can only be achieved through focused meditation."

She spent the rest of the hour giving us tips on how to reach the perfect meditative state, and the incantation we needed to repeat in our minds to transform.

"I really like her," Hermione said as we left class. "She seems to know what she's talking about."

I couldn't help but agree. Professor Fulplume definitely seemed like the next best teacher after McGonagall.

The vampires seemed to have enjoyed their second lesson as much as I enjoyed mine. Edward, Jasper, and Emmet spent the entire lunch hour relaying everything they had learnt. The five asked me a series of questions, each recording my answers on their own pieces of parchment, before conferring at the end. They all came up with the same results: according to Arithmancy, I was a nine. Apparently, that was a good thing. Nine was a number reserved for kings and queens—those of absolute strength who had the power to influence or rule the crowd. I wanted to scoff at their findings. If anything, I was a pawn—a plaything amongst gods.

I had Charms at one o'clock, and then Defence Against the Dark Arts at two. I was extremely intrigued by the mystery Professor, and couldn't help but wonder as to the reason behind his previous absence. At first I had imagined, probably somewhat foolishly, that business had kept him away. Perhaps he was an ex-Auror like Mad-Eye Moody, and was spending his last free night chasing uncaptured Death Eaters.

My suspicions, however, changed the minute I first laid eyes on the man. His attire would have been appropriate for a middle-class Muggle—a doctor, maybe—but here he stuck out like a sore thumb. The six-foot, grey haired man was dressed in a navy suit, a white button-down shirt, and a blue, striped tie. At a guess, he could have been no younger than forty five, but no older than fifty.

His expression was not welcoming. There was a deep crease set between his eyes. It was so defined that I guessed it rarely disappeared. He had very large ears, which stuck out like satellite dishes. Below his bulbous nose was a mouth turned down at the corners. The frown certainly didn't inspire much confidence.

His movements were awkward—robotic, almost, as he strode to the centre of the raised platform.

"I am Professor Martin," he announced in a bored monotone voice. "I will be teaching you Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Why weren't you at the feast?" Ron blurted.

"Yeah," said Seamus. "The new teachers usually like to mingle to get a feel of the place."

The professor's expression remained fixed and unimpressed as he gave his answer. "I never mingle."

An uncomfortable silence spread throughout the room. Based on first impressions, I couldn't decided whether Professor Martin was a disdainful individual or just seriously socially inept. Maybe he was both. Only time would tell.

"This year you will learn about some of the most dangerous magical creatures and beings, including Dementors, Lethifolds, and Vampires."

My eyes narrowed at the Professor's words. I didn't particularly like the way he had mentioned my favourite species alongside the foulest creatures in existence.

"That's great," Parvati interrupted. "We have vampires at the school, Professor—not that they'd attack anyone or anything."

She threw me an apologetic glance before returning her attention to the front of the class.

…

"Quite."

"Bella," said Seamus, nodding my way, attempting to alleviate the tension, "is engaged to one of them."

…

"Why?" the professor questioned, his gaze landing on me.

…

"Um, because I love him," I responded. Surely the reason was obvious.

"You do know that Vampires feast on human blood?"

…

"I had heard, yes."

"And your fiancé's diet doesn't concern you?"

"Edward and his family feed off anim—"

"Be quiet," Professor Martin told Hermione, all the while maintaining his level, monotonous tone.

"No." I hoped that he would hear the conviction in my words. "He doesn't hunt humans."

"Will it not bother you when you're withered and grey, whilst he remains young and unchanging?"

My jaw clenched in fury. I couldn't believe that this man was judging me in front of all my friends, as if he had the right! I certainly wasn't going to dignify him with an answer. The most confusing thing, however, was that I couldn't tell whether he was being intentionally offensive or if he was just unbelievably curious. There was no way to be sure—his expression gave nothing away. It was like it'd been frozen in place.

After an hour in his company, I came to the conclusion that he was just seriously impaired when it came to human interaction. Maybe it was a result of severe practicality. Whatever the reason, I had a feeling that it was simply his nature, and that he didn't know how else to behave. It wasn't as if he hadn't made any effort whatsoever to use his manners. He'd thanked Harry, after all, for helping to demonstrate how to conjure a Patronus.

I made a mental note to ask Edward for his opinion on the new instructor at some point in the near future. He might've even been listening in on the lesson: he'd had a free period between two and three o'clock, so I wouldn't have been surprised in the least if he had used the spare time to monitor me. He'd certainly found it an enjoyable activity in Forks.

I had to wait until dinner to question him, though, because he and his siblings were heading off to the ground floor for Divination lessons with Firenze as I was finishing up.

"How was your first day?" I asked later as we walked into the Great Hall.

"Awesome," Emmett grinned. "I really think we're going to like it here."

"That's definitely good news," Ginny smiled. "Which class was your favourite?"

"Potions," the vampires answered in unison.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," I muttered, remembering how the rest of us had lost Slughorn's challenge to Edward and Alice.

I speared a sausage on the end of my fork, biting of the end whilst retaining my grumpy expression.

"Why so grouchy, Bella?" Ginny asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"The new Defence teacher," Ron explained, a hint of dislike evident in his tone, "Professor Martin, decided to interrogate her this afternoon."

"We heard about that," said Jasper, taking another sip of his dragon's blood.

"I thought you would have," I told him, before turning my attention to his brother. "So, what's the verdict?"

"On the professor?"

I nodded.

Edward didn't answer immediately; instead, he stared into his goblet, swirling the contents whilst he considered his answer. Finally, he heaved out a long sigh and said, "The man baffles me. He answers questions honestly and says exactly what he's thinking. Externally, I can understand why he comes across as a cold, indifferent character, but internally he's actually quite the opposite. He was really concerned by your involvement with us, Bella, despite his callous approach. He wasn't even making a conscious effort to convey himself as an ill-tempered man."

"Well if that was him on a good day, I'd hate to see him on a bad one."

The conversation turned to more pleasing topics then, and we spent the next fifteen minutes listening to Edward relaying the details of Esme's first day. Apparently, McGonagall had been successful in her mission, because Muggle Studies had never been more popular. The students had all eagerly received their new, beautiful teacher with excited smiles and enthusiastic attitudes.

"She loved it," he revealed, his eyes on his beaming mother, who was currently immersed in a conversation with Hagrid.

"You don't have to be a mind reader to see that," Rosalie said as she followed Edward's line of sight.

"Come on," Alice chirped, "let's go congratulate her."

"Bella hasn't finished yet," Edward pointed out, just as I was reaching for a large chocolate-chip cookie resting on a nearby platter.

"That's alright. I'll be finished soon. You go and I'll join you in a minute."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded, smiling when Edward kissed my forehead. I stared after him as he walked gracefully away with his siblings.

My focus flitted back to the others as Hermione took a cookie and placed it on her plate. "I think I'll have one of these too. You can't have them with pumpkin juice though."

"Why not?" asked Ron, his expression plastered with confusion.

"You just can't. You eat them with milk."

Her boyfriend looked unconvinced. Hermione simply shook her head and reached for one of the golden jugs. Just before her fingers closed around the handle, however, Ron's goblet tipped over, the contents spilling onto his lap and causing him to jump up from the bench.

"Just because you don't like pumpkin juice with cookies, Hermione," he said jokingly, "it doesn't mean the rest of us feel the same."

"I didn't do anything," she protested. "I never touched your cup!"

"It just fell over by itself, did it?"

"It must have done."

His mouth pressed into a hard line as he attempted to suppress a smile, but despite his good humour, I felt compelled to side with Hermione.

"She's right," I argued. "She never touched it. I would have seen it from this angle if she had."

Ron's hands flew into the air defensively. "Alright, alright. I was only playing."

He extracted his wand and cleared away the fluid, whilst Hermione poured herself a generous serving of milk.

"Want some, Bella?"

"Yes, please," I said, holding out my goblet gratefully.

Hermione seemed to be on the same wavelength as me: she didn't want her desert tainted by the lingering flavours of sausage and mash. We both lifted our goblets to our lips and chugged down our drinks.

The milk was refreshing yet ice-cold. I felt energised as it travelled down my throat, but the chill seemed to shoot through my brain like a bullet, freezing it over and slowing my thought process.

Before I knew what was happening, I was clutching at my stomach, trembling violently like I was about to vomit. My eyes landed on Hermione, who seemed to be suffering the same bizarre, returning my gaze with a look of dread. She gave one last frightened whimper, before the world grew around us.

**

* * *

**

**EPOV**

The surge of thoughts hit me like a tidal wave, every single one of them calling out Bella and Hermione's names in panic. I spun in the same second that my family did. They had been alerted by the verbal cries rather than the mental, though both kinds equally loud. I couldn't understand the images flashing through my mind. They made no sense. They were impossible.

I tore down the hall like a bolt of lightning, using every fibre of self-control I had to prevent myself from flinging the students across the room in my attempts to reach Bella. As my eyes found her, my breath caught and my jaw clenched with such force that I would have bitten through steel if there had been any between my teeth… because, there, sat on the wooden bench, swamped beneath a sea of black and white fabric, looking so confused and frightened that I thought my dead heart would snap in two, was a tiny little girl with wide chocolate coloured eyes.

"Is that…" Alice whispered beside me, her voice faltering with shock.

_It can't be,_ Emmett thought, unable to believe what he was seeing; slowly, however, he began to examine the girl's face, noticing how her full upper lip was slightly out of balance with the lower, and how her mahogany hair fell thickly about her face. She had a tiny button nose, and cheeks that were flushed pink like a china doll's.

_Bella._

There was no doubt about it—Bella's face was eternally engraved in my memory, and this child resembled her far too closely. The only difference, beside her now childish looks, were the straight, thick bangs covering her forehead.

Her eyes roamed upwards until they found mine, filling with big, fat tears whilst her bottom lip jutted out to form a heartbreaking pout.

"Draught of Youth!" Ron growled, slamming a golden jug down onto the wooden table.

Jasper snatched it up and inhaled the scent of the white liquid sloshing around inside, before he groaned loudly and laid it back down.

"He's right," he confirmed, his eyes travelling to the other victim sat across from little Bella. Even if I hadn't heard the students calling her name earlier, her thick bushy hair would have made her instantly identifiable.

Hermione was sobbing too, her thoughts giving away her understandable confusion. Bella's, it seemed, were still of limits.

I stood there, looking down at her, completely and utterly immobile. My limbs weren't strong enough to fight against the titanic wave of fury which suddenly came crashing over me. It weighed me down like a brick would a feather, rooting me to the spot and freezing me like an actual statue. In the ensuing moments, only one word streaked through my mind, screaming like a siren and fuelling my anger: Blaise.

I instantly dove into the heads of those filling the Great Hall, seeking out his 'voice' and the thoughts that would verify my theory. When I pinpointed him amongst the amused Slytherins, however, I found the exact opposite to what I had been expecting.

… _going to think I'm responsible—it's not like I don't have a motive. I wonder who did it… Look at those tears; she even makes a cute toddler! Why do all the best looking ones end up in Gryffindor? Even Ginny Weasley…_

I withdrew, knowing that I wasn't going to get any useful information, though I _had_ learnt that Blaise wasn't the culprit. I would have turned my attention to further investigation, but I quickly realised that the main priorities at present were the two tearful little girls. I would see to the perpetrator later.

I was about to reach down to pluck Bella from the bench, only Rosalie bet me to it: she scooped the girl up in the blink of an eye, pressing her to her chest and stroking her hair, cooing all the while like a mother trying to comfort her distressed child.

"It's alright, Bella," she promised lovingly. "It's going to be alright. We're going to look after you until all this is sor—"

"What's going on here?" the headmistress demanded, alerted by the craning heads staring in our direction. "Why the commo—oh dear." Professor McGonagall's eyes grew large as they landed on the two infants; still, the sight only seemed to bring about a few seconds of shock before her expression became unsurprised, almost as if she had been expecting something like this to happen.

_Not even a day and they're all up to their usual tricks._

This was the norm? Surely not!

_I suppose it could be worse._

What? How could it possibly be worse?! My fianceé is less than three feet tall!

_At least no one's been turned into a ferret this time._

Alright, you win, but I am _not _happy about this!

"Miss Hale, Mr Weasley: I advise that you take Miss Swan and Miss Granger to see Professor Slughorn. He may already have an antidote. Follow me."

I exhaled a sigh of relief, glad to learn that the effects of the aging draught weren't irreversible. Rosalie and Ron trailed behind the Professor, their arms circling the two girls protectively as they made their way towards the head table. Alice, Emmett, Jasper and I walked on at the back.

"Horace," called Professor McGonagall, "we have a situation."

"Oh? What's wrong Minerva?"

It didn't take him long to deduce the problem. His face formed a knowing look and as he released a sigh of understanding, which immediately preceded a cluck of amusement.

My eyes narrowed automatically.

Esme sprung over the desk in one fluid bound after taking in Bella's two year-old features, her thoughts overflowing with concern for the girl she already considered a daughter.

"What happened?" she asked fearfully.

"Nothing to worry about, Esme," Slughorn said reassuringly. "Someone's slipped the girls a youth potion, that's all."

Esme's eyes widened in alarm. Once again, my family and I were in unchartered territory, so I couldn't blame my mother for her anxiety. The only thing keeping me in control at present was the professor's mention of an antidote.

"Youth doesn't last forever… well, for most of us any way—the potion will have worn off by tomorrow morning."

"Wait," I broke in, "aren't you going to give them something to turn them back?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Cullen," Professor Slughorn answered, "but the process of brewing age isn't as quick as bottling youth. Aging potions have to be left to mature, and the required period depends entirely on how many years you're wanting to add. To make one that would return the girls back to their natural states would only take an hour or so less than it will for the effects to wear off. It would be pointless, therefore, to waste the required materials on such a thing, especially when they'll be spending the last few hours of that time in their beds."

I glanced over at Bella, whose eyes were no longer leaking tears; instead, she wore an interested expression, her attention now entirely focused on examining Rosalie's necklace. She twisted it in her hands, running a tiny digit over the Abatwa diamonds encrusted in the silver.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Alice asked, clearly irked by Slughorn's unhelpfulness.

The man shrugged and said, "Babysit, I suppose. I doubt it will be difficult. It's only for one night, after all."

Rosalie looked like all her Christmases had come at once, not even making an effort to hide the fact that she was looking forward to the night's events. She'd probably be sad when the girls returned to normal.

"Do they know what's going on?" Emmett questioned, noting their strange behaviour: whilst Bella remained focused on the necklace, Hermione was preoccupying herself with turning Ron into a ninja. She'd unknotted his tie and had proceeded in wrapping it round his forehead. He didn't seem to notice, for he was too concerned with the current conversation.

"No," the Potions Master said, "youth draughts not only cause a person to regress physically, but also mentally and emotionally. The girls _will _know who each of you are, but they'll not understand anything beyond that, and they certainly won't be able to comprehend the relationships they share with you."

_Which is probably a good thing. I doubt any of them would be comfortable if things were different._

"The only thing you can do is interact with them as you would with normal children. Technically, until the effects wear off, that's exactly what they are. Also, you should be aware that drinkers of youth potion begin to age the second after they've consumed it. They should be pubescent by about two am."

_Maybe this _will _be fun,_ Emmett grinned, giving me an almost unstoppable urge to punch him. _It'll be good for Edward, as well. He'll get to see everything he missed out on._

My eyes snapped to Bella at the sound of my brother's thoughts. She had gotten bored with the necklace and had moved onto prodding Rosalie's lips, comparing their hardness with her own soft ones. Maybe Emmett had a point. It was only for one night, after all…

"Sug!" Hermione shouted, her fingers pressed against the man's cheek as he leaned in to tickle her. "Sug!"

"Oooh, almost," he chuckled, playing with her feet. She giggled profusely as he continued. "I'll stop if you can say it properly. Come on."

"Aaaaaaah, Sug! Sughorn!"

"Well, that's close enough," he allowed, moving onto Bella, who studied him warily, pressing herself closer to my sister. "Hello, little one."

She didn't respond, but merely stared at the man disapprovingly, her expression critical, as if she were inspecting an idiot. I couldn't help but smile.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" Esme encouraged.

The little girl shook her head in refusal, much to all of our amusement.

_Hmm… _Slughorn thought, _would you come over here, please, Edward?_

My smile instantly faltered. Being careful around an adult Bella was difficult enough, but the child in Rosalie's arms looked twice as fragile. I wasn't sure whether I trusted myself not to damage her.

_It's alright, Edward, _thought Rosalie, catching sight of my frown. _You won't hurt her. You know you won't._

I inhaled a deep, calming breath, before walking forward to stand beside Slughorn.

Bella's expression altered the second her eyes landed on my face, lighting up like a beacon and making it impossible not to smile in return.

"Who's this, Bella?" Esme asked. "Do you remember?"

She nodded, leaning her body forwards and extending her arms, trying to escape Rosalie's in favour of mine.

I didn't need any more encouragement than that. I closed the distance between us and scooped her into my embrace, securing one arm under her legs and one behind her back to keep her from toppling towards the floor.

"Edwod," she said, her tiny fingers pressing against my nose.

"Bella," I said in response, returning the action.

She burst into a fit of giggles and pressed her face into my robes.

"Aw, man, that's just too cute," Emmett grinned, shuffling closer until he was directly beside us. "Hey, Bella; remember me?"

"E-mett," she pronounce, stressing the last syllable. "E-mett… de bear."

"That's right," he laughed, bending so that his eyes were on the same level as hers. "And who's that?" He pointed at his wife, who was smiling angelically, her eyes swimming with adoration.

"Wose!" He moved onto the others, pointing around our circle. "Awis, Daspa, Ess-may, Car-why-uw, Won, Magoga… Magogagogall!"

Even the headmistress, with her usual stern expression, couldn't keep her lips from twitching upwards at the corners.

_Do you want us to take her for the night, Edward?_ Esme questioned, her expression slightly hopeful.

"No, we'll be ok," I answered, gently stroking Bella's hair.

"Say goodbye to Esme and Carlisle," Rosalie urged.

"Bye-bye! Bye-bye!"

"Bye, Bella! Bye, Hermione!" they called, waving as we walked away.

_Good luck, _Slughorn thought.

Bella peered at the curious and concerned faces staring at us as we passed, before her eyes roamed over the food covering the many golden platters, eventually zeroing in on one tray in particular.

"Edwod," she said, tugging on my collar, "can I have one of dose, pease?"

"A cookie?"

"Yes, pease."

"Ooooh, I don't know," I pretended, surprised by how easily this was coming, "have you been good?"

She nodded quickly and severely, as if answering something of vital importance. She reached out a hand, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the treats. Just as I was about to step forwards and hand her a cookie, one came flying through the air into her waiting palms. My jaw dropped automatically, watching in awe as she released a melody of bell-like laughter, before biting into her chocolate-chip prize.

"I thought you needed a wand to do that kind of thing," said Alice.

"Usually you do," Ron explained, "but the only reason we can use them in the first place is 'cause we have magic of our own. After we start school, I s'pose we become too reliant on our wands. Kids can tap into magic without them a lot of the time, but they'd still have to be really advanced to do what Bells just did."

"Well, technically," Ginny broke in, having caught the last part of our conversation, "she is—they both are, even if they don't realise it consciously. Maybe that's just what you get when you combined learned eighteen year-old witch magic with a two year-old's brain."

"Slughorn said they've regressed mentally, though," Ron told her.

"Yeah, obviously, but magic works on a different level, doesn't it? I don't think it _can _regress—only wear off or get stronger with time."

Her argument was sensible. Maybe she was right.

"Either way," said Harry, holding up two pairs of shoes and socks, all of which had obviously slipped from the girls' feet earlier, "I think we'd better get these little tykes up to the Common Room before Hermione undresses herself."

Ron's head snapped down to the girl in his arms; sure enough, she was trying to wriggle out of the too-big clothes that draped over her like a tent. The only thing holding them in place were the arms circling her.

"Right," he announced, "off we go!"

We marched quickly from the hall, leaving the other students and teachers behind. They'd finish shortly, and I didn't want to be caught up in the rush when I had such a tiny, breakable creature to look after. The majority of the time she was capable of taking care of herself, granted; but tonight was different. She needed me to look out for her, and that's exactly what I was going to do.

I sank into one of the arm chairs by the fire after we entered the Common Room, sitting Bella on my lap whilst I waited for her to finish the cookie. She only managed half of it before she offered me the rest.

"I don't like them," I said.

"Why? It's nice."

"Vampires don't eat food, Bella," Emmett reminded her.

She looked puzzled for a moment, but then her eyes twinkled mischievously, a smiled spreading across her angelic face.

"Ooooooooh," she answered, hopping down from my knee to crouch on the floor in front of my dark haired brother, "vamp-i-uz!"

She seemed to tense for a moment, before pouncing like some kind of hyperactive kitten, straight at Emmett's chest, her milky teeth closing on his neck.

He looked shocked at first, like someone would if they'd been slapped across the face with a wet trout, but after a second, he fell backwards against the carpet, laughing hysterically at Bella's courageous little display.

"RAAAAAAAR!" she bellowed, fuelling his laughter further.

"You call… that… a roar, squirt?" he choked out between laughs.

"You do it!" Bella commanded happily.

He took a deep breath and released a deafening, guttural roar. She laughed in response, rolling onto the floor beside him, her arms and legs getting tangled in her oversized robes.

"I think we're going to need to get them into some smaller clothes," Ron suggested, chasing after little Hermione, whose hips were no longer wide enough to support her skirt. She ran about the room bare-legged, wearing only a shirt and robes, both of which were slipping down her shoulders, as well as underwear that she had to grasp to keep up.

She stopped in the middle of the room, looking down as she considered whether or not to take them off.

"Oh, no you don't!" Ron cried, lifting her into his arms.

Alice dashed away, then, realising that we would have two naked infants if we didn't act quickly, and returned seconds later with two of her t-shirts.

"These will do. They'll fit like nighties. Come on, Bella; let's go and get you changed."

She held out her hand, waiting for the little girl to get up and walk over. After Bella had taken her first step, however, there was a flash of lightening and a loud crack of thunder, and, instead, she dove forwards, squealing in fright, wrapping her fragile arms around the nearest vampire: me.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, hoping that my voice would ease some of her fear. "You're not afraid of the storm, are you?"

She buried her head in my robes, hiding her face as she nodded.

"I can't believe that… not after you just tackled a vampire."

"Vamp-i-uz awen't scawy; dey're pwetty."

_Great, I can't even frighten a two-year old anymore, _Emmett thought, though he couldn't manage to peel the grin from his face.

"Why don't you pretend that the thunder _is _a vampire, Bella?" Jasper suggested, smiling at her as she peeked up at him. "When it roars at you, stand up to it and roar back."

"That's a great idea," Rosalie agreed. "We'll even roar with you if you like. We'll all tell it off together. How does that sound?"

"We-uw aw shout at it?" Bella clarified.

"Yup," Alice nodded, "until it gets the message and shuts up. It'll be like a game!"

"OK!"

Bella arranged herself into a more comfortable position, preparing for the next crack of thunder. I saw in Alice's mind when it would sound: it was close.

"Get ready, Bella," she said. "Three… two… one…"

Noise filled the room as the lightning flashed, my brothers, sisters and I responding immediately with five primal roars, whilst the little girl did her best to match us. When it was over, we all broke out into happy laughter, each of us amused by our bizarre antics. Bella's expression was exhilarated, and I could smell the adrenalin coursing through her veins. Luckily, I was still feeling the effects of the dragon's blood, so I didn't have to worry about that.

After our third shouting match, Bella had jumped from my lap and had crossed over to the window, anticipating the next one. Finally, however, she seemed to lose interest in her tormenter, and simply began ignore it instead.

"Maybe we should give her and Hermione a bath," Rosalie said to Alice. "They probably won't have time to have one in morning."

Alice nodded in agreement, her eyes glassing over whilst she checked the future. After they had resumed focus, she danced forwards to Jasper, where Bella was busying herself with inspecting his ears.

"Come on, little rascal, you need a wash."

"Can Edwod come?" she queried glancing over my sister's shoulder at me.

I smiled, laughing under my breath.

"No, we're going to the little girls' room, and Edward is a boy."

Bella huffed, but waved goodbye to me all the same.

"Bye-bye, Edwod! Bye-bye!"

"Bye," I called, waving back, "I'll see you when you're clean."

"Yes, see you when I'm clean!"

Rosalie offered to take Hermione, lifting her from Ron's embrace and carrying her from the room, the two vampires followed closely by Ginny. Harry and Ron came to join us, then, both slumping downwards against the couch. They were acting as if they'd just had the hardest day's work of their lives.

"That was actually kinda fun," chuckled Emmett. He was sprawled out by the fire, his hands resting beneath his head as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"Speak for yourself," Ron said, "I'm bloody knackered after that!"

"Let's just be glad we'll be asleep when they hit eleven," Harry told him.

"That is something to be thankful for."

"Why?" Jasper asked curiously.

"'Cause the girls were bloody murder up until the end of sixth year," Ron said. "You know how they are—you say the tiniest thing and they either bite your head off or burst into tears."

I liked Ron—he was a nice enough guy—but I had a feeling that his tactless tendencies may have been just as influential as the raging, teenage hormones.

Eventually, the students began pouring into the Common Room, whilst my brothers and I listened to Ron and Harry's version of events during their early years at Hogwarts.

"It wasn't my fault she drunk Lee's ruddy frequency potion. All I did was tell her that she sounded like a chipmunk with gas, and she tried to flaming kill me!"

"Kill you?" Jasper probed.

"She didn't try to kill him," said Harry. "She cast an engorgement charm on a spider climbing up the wall and sent it flying at his head."

"It's the same thing," Ron argued.

_It kinda sounds like something Bella would do, _Emmet thought. _She did punch the mutt in the face, after all._

That was true; Bella certainly had a temper. I wondered what she was doing now—probably splashing around in the water with her friend, having no care in the world to bother her.

I couldn't help myself: my curiosity got the better of me, and I began searching for Alice's mind. I found her almost immediately. She was sat on the edge of what could only be described as a pool, rubbing shampoo into Hermione's hair whilst Rosalie saw to Bella's. The two little girls were submerged from the neck down, and were playing joyfully with the golden bubbles surrounding them.

"I'm a mermaid!" Hermione sang, lifting her legs from the water.

"Are you?" smiled Ginny. "And is Bella a mermaid too?"

"Yeah."

But Bella wasn't paying attention, because she was too busy staring at Rosalie.

"What are dose?" she questioned, pointing at the blonde vampire's chest.

Ginny and Alice's lips instantly pressed into hard lines, whilst my golden haired sister stared on in shock. It was probably wrong to take so much pleasure in someone else's discomfort, but I really couldn't help myself.

"Um… they're… they're something you get when you grow up."

Hermione swam to Bella's side, pulling her soapy hair back to whisper in her ear, clearly unaware that the vampires wouldn't even have to strain to make out her words.

"Dey're boobies."

That was it. That was the moment when the entire House must surely have thought I was going mad, because rarely do people burst into laughter for no seemingly obvious reason… rarely do people bark their hysterics with such force that they manage to shake the nearby furniture in the same way that a miniature earthquake would. And yet, there I was, collapsing on the floor, hooting like an idiot whilst the room fell silent around me. Even then, I couldn't stop myself.

In a normal situation, I wouldn't usually display such high levels of immaturity. It was silly and childish to let something like this affect me so strongly, but I was comforted by the awareness that it had been the secrecy Hermione had deemed necessary to communicate the word—as if it had been the rudest, and most forbidden taboo—rather than the word itself.

It brought me to one simple, unavoidable conclusion: kids were hilarious and impossibly adorable.

In my lifetime, I hadn't really considered what it might be like to be a father, since I'd always been missing the essential other half. Now that I'd found Bella, though, and certainly after tonight, I was beginning to understand Rosalie's desire for that one completing element. I wanted it for Bella, but it was something I knew I'd never be able to give her. That line of thought gradually pulled me from my hysterics.

My mood felt like some kind of polynomial curve, climbing and arching until it reached a peak, before plummeting back down, crossing the divide into negative realms. Here I was again: depressed, plagued by guilt, and suffering a desire that I would never see fulfilled. Fortunately, Jasper was on hand to help.

_Care to explain?_

"I'd rather not."

After changing out of our uniforms, we filled the rest of the time during the girls' absence with seeing to the work Professor Babbling had set us in Ancient Runes. She had given us each a different section of text from an old historical document. Unless we all translated the symbols accurately, the end result would make little sense when the time came to put it all together in Friday's lesson. I was suddenly grateful that we had each taken the time to prepare for the subjects before our arrival.

I was a tenth of the way through the translation when Rosalie, Alice and Ginny returned with the Bella and Hermione. Even a person with average vision would have been able to see the difference in the little girls' physical appearance. They had both gained at least four inches in height, and already their faces had lost that childish roundness. They looked leaner, and more graceful when stationary.

"Edward," Bella called, waving as she ran to me.

Evidently their language skills and pronunciation had improved too.

I shifted my parchment to one side, jumping up from the floor, all thoughts of runes and history vanishing immediately. Bella jumped into my arms, allowing me to lift her effortlessly from the ground.

Her night shirt was baggy, cutting off a few inches above her knees, though it would have fitted an adult snugly.

"How was the bath?"

"Fun. There were lots of bubbles. Did you miss me?"

"Of course."

"Did Jasper and Emmett miss me?"

"Yep," said Jasper, rising from his seat to greet Bella. He held out his arms for her, and she didn't hesitate to reach out for him in return. It was a very strange thing to observe—Jasper interacting with Bella in such a way. I doubt he would have permitted it had his mouth been swimming with venom. Now that he was surrounded by warm, fuzzy emotions, however, I could understand his enthusiasm.

"We should take them upstairs," Rosalie suggested. "It's a bit too crowded here for children. They might get hurt."

"Good idea," said Harry.

We all followed Jasper upstairs to our dormitory. Seamus, Dean, and Neville came too, each of them using Bella and Hermione's predicament as an excuse to avoid homework.

"What would you like to do now?" Jasper asked the girls.

"A story!" answered Hermione excitedly. "Will you tell us one, please?"

"What kind of story?"

"_The Fountain of Fair Fortune_," Ron suggested. "It's one of the stories you're told if you're brought up in a wizarding family. Neither of them will have heard it."

We all agreed to listen to Ron's story, relaxing as he launched into the narrative. Whilst Hermione sat at his side, completely immersed in the plot, Bella moved from bed to bed, flitting from one set of vampires to another. Initially, she was positioned between Jasper and Alice, enjoying my brother's soothing powers as she listened to the story. Then, she moved onto the next couple, throwing herself into their embrace, before allowing Rosalie to plait her hair. Finally, she set her eyes on me, and crouched into a catlike position, her muscles coiled to spring.

Due to the space separating the beds, I presumed that she wasn't seriously thinking about making the jump. Naturally, I was wrong. She launched herself from the bed, her limbs outstretched as she flew upwards in a wide arch that no four year old should ever have been able to achieve. When she finally began to descend, she fell slowly and gently towards the bed with a gracefulness I wouldn't have believed possible. It was as if she was sinking through invisible water, and the entire thing was completely mesmerising.

"How did you do that?" I whispered.

Bella didn't answer; she concealed her secret behind an innocent smile and settled back into my arms, contenting herself with listening to the story of the knight and the three witches.

Slowly but surely, her eyelids began to droop and her heart rate decreased, until finally she was slumbering peacefully.

"We should put them to bed," said Rosalie.

"No," Alice disagreed. I saw the vision in her mind: if my sisters tried to move the girls, the noise from the Common Room would wake them both, and it would take another hour to get them to settle again. "We'll have to leave them here tonight. It won't hurt."

She and Rosalie jumped up from the beds after kissing their husbands, before leaving for their own dorm.

"Bro," Emmett said, holding out my shot.

"Actually, Em, I think I'll pass tonight."

"You wanna miss out on the fun?"

"I don't want to miss out on this," I said, indicating Bella. She was now roughly the size of a six year old. "Besides, I have an entire year to sleep."

In truth, I was glad I had this excuse to avoid taking the sleeping draught. I wasn't ready to meet the dream Bella again. She'd been right when she'd said it would only be a matter of time until I couldn't resist anymore. I knew it was the norm for boys to dream about sex, but the majority were impatient to have it, rather than reluctant. I had no idea what I would see if I bit into the apple, but I had a strong feeling that, whatever it was, it would make my next year a living hell. The potential frustration would probably destroy my sanity.

Little Bella was a welcomed distraction. Her presence muted the licentious hungers and shameless notions, replacing them instead with the familiar desire to protect.

The others settled into sleep whilst I laid awake. I did my best to block the boys after catching the first glimpse of their dreams. I definitely did _not _want to suffer those images. I knew from experience that our abilities remained active during sleep, which was probably the reason why Jasper was suffering just as much frustration as Emmett tonight. Only two nights away from their mates and already they were feeling the effects. Unbelievable.

By midnight, Bella resembled a ten year old. Her development fascinated me. I had mixed feelings about how I should react when I encountered the person who had done this to her. A part of me wanted to shake their hand and tell them thank you, but I doubted that Bella would appreciate that.

My problems began when she hit her mid-teens. As her body's natural curves returned and her bones grew in size, her shirt grew so tight that it fitted her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, especially when it slowly began riding up her midriff. If I hadn't known better, I would have guessed that Alice had orchestrated this maddening situation on purpose.

Bella's limbs grew like vines, her left arm creeping over my torso whilst one leg hitched and stretched across my left thigh.

Absolute… unadulterated… torture.

My head snapped to the bedside table where Emmett had left the shot. I couldn't take the entire thing now because I'd never wake up in time for class, but maybe one little sip would be enough to send me under for a couple of hours. I took a fifth, and was relieved when I felt the darkness settling over me.

I should have known she'd be waiting for me there.

Her outfit hadn't changed, much to my frustration: she still wore the shirt and briefs. The only addition was a pair of black, ribbon stilettos. The sight made me want to do nothing more than beat my head against a brick wall… Well, I suppose there was _one _thing I wanted more than—

_No, stop it, Edward! _the Super-Ego angel said.

_Don't stop it, Edward, _purred the devilish Id.

"Back again?" Bella held up her apple, daring me to take a bite.

"I don't want that," I said, taking a step away from her.

"Sure you do. You want it like crazy. The only thing you've ever wanted more is my blood, but thanks to your supplements, there's nothing to distract you now from this." She trailed a hand down the length of her body.

I whipped around, forcing my eyes away from her, but here in my dreams, the fact that I was a vampire didn't seem to matter. No matter which way I turned, she was always there, right in front of me, stalking like a predator.

"The more you try and run the harder it will get. I'm not going to go away."

I sprinted away from her across the ballroom, but before I could escape, she dived after me, her arms locking securely around my legs, wrestling me to the floor.

_You have to get away. That's not really Bella. Fight!_

I didn't try to argue with myself. I knew that the dream girl was just an extension of my own desires. I wouldn't be fighting Bella; I'd be fighting myself.

My leg crashed into her shoulder, sending her backwards through the air. She collided with one of the stone pillars, the entire thing shattering upon contact. As horrible as it was to see any version of Bella crumpled on the floor, I fiercely hoped that this one would remain so. Naturally, therefore, she didn't.

"Oh, Edward," she said, her voice even and unconcerned, "do we really have to?"

"Think of it as foreplay," I said before I could stop myself. The second it was out, I clamped a hand over my mouth and groaned. What was wrong with me?! I had it on the brain!

"Well, when you put it like that…"

The room flashed around us and the ornate ballroom transformed. In terms of shape and size, it was exactly the same room, but now it was completely white—the walls, the ceiling, the pillars, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.

Bella's outfit, too, had changed. She was wearing a pair of black PVC boots that rose half way up her thighs, black briefs, a black, tank-top, and a PVC jacket. A set of black shades topped the outfit off. She looked like she'd just jumped out of _The Matrix, _and I suddenly had the sneaking suspicion that her fighting technique would reinforce that image.

She ran at me with the speed of a vampire, her fist crashing into my jaw before I could dodge. And then I was flying, soaring backwards at blinding speed. I didn't realise what was happening until the rubble came crashing down around me. I gazed over my shoulder at the remains of the pillar. Evidently, this Bella was stronger than reality's version.

I thrust myself off the ground, and charged at her, intending to get a hold on some part of her body so that I could toss her against the far wall. She was too fast though, her figure blurring with the motions. The sequence unfolded with dramatic energy. I threw punches this way and that, but all I hit was air, whilst Bella cart-wheeled and flipped out of my path, running up walls and throwing punches. Finally, her fist connected once again with the side of my head, sending me into inescapable darkness.

_Did I just get knocked out?_

The blackness gradually began to lift until eventually I was blinking awake, awareness of my surrounding environment returning. Something was tickling slowly at my chest, eliciting a soft purr on my part.

"This is extremely surreal," a lovely voice whispered.

It was then that I noticed a gentle pressure against my shoulder. My eyes flicked downwards in confusion, and there was Bella, smiling up like some kind of divine, unearthly creature.

"Hi," she said.

"Good morning."

"I like watching you sleep," she admitted. "I think I'm beginning to understand your fascination."

I couldn't help but grin at that. "I don't think I've ever woken up to a more beautiful sight."

Despite her subsequent blush, her smile widened.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Only fifteen minutes or so. I've been trying to fill in the blanks."

"You don't remember anything?"

Her brow furrowed whilst her eyes turned vacant and glassy. "I remember being in the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione and I drank what we thought was milk, but it turned out to be—"

"A youth draught."

"Exactly. There's a gap in my memory after that. The first thing I can remember was running towards you in the Common Room. My hair was damp, so I'd obviously had a bath. Everything after that is clear, but no matter how hard I try, the bit in between remains elusive."

"You were kind of adorable, Bella," I smiled. "I've never seen such a cute little girl."

"You're a little biased," she reminded me.

"I don't think that's it. Emmett, Jazz, Alice and Rose will back me up. They had a really good time last night." I sighed heavily. "All we have to do now is figure out who was responsible for it all."

"There's no need," she growled, her eyes sparkling furiously like hard, precious stones, "I've already figure it out…"

I felt my expression freeze as I waited.

"Pansy Parkinson."

"What?! How do you know?" I whispered furiously.

"It didn't take me long to get it. To be honest, it was kind of obvious. I saw her eyeing the Celo Celeritas in class. I thought she was just being thick, but she must have taken a sample. I didn't think anything of it at the time, because her hands were empty when she went back to her desk. I didn't realise until a few minutes ago that the potion would have automatically turned any container dipped into invisible. I can't believe I didn't realise!"

"You? You're not the one with mind reading abilities."

"You were focused on Alice the entire time," she continued, "because you wanted to win the Empatheia. And then, of course, Alice couldn't see Hermione and me turning into kids because of Hagrid and Firenze."

A long pause followed her revelation whilst I absorbed the new information. I couldn't say that I had been expecting this.

"You're sure it was Pansy?"

"Positive. I embarrassed her in class, remember. She hates that everyone knows just how green with envy she actually is. Whoever was behind it would have _had_ to use an invisibility potion, because if the youth draught had been on the table before you left to see Esme, you would have caught the scent. And if you want further evidence… someone knocked over Ron's goblet just before we took the took the potion, but no one at the table actually touched it. I'm guessing that the invisible student knocked it over in their rush to spike the milk.

"I thought it over whilst you were sleeping, and it's the only sensible conclusion I've come to."

I felt my stomach drop. I'd been all set to threaten a guy over this, and now I was being told that I'd have to tackle a human female? A vampire like Victoria would have been another story entirely. Even after hearing Jessica Stanley's unkind thoughts towards Bella, I never would have dreamed of starting a confrontation. It felt wrong. This would feel the same.

"I guess we'll find out later on today. I'll be sure to keep a close eye on Pansy."

Bella nodded, her expression gravening further still. "Our problems don't end there." She bit her lip, seeming unsure of how to continue. "Slughorn said that only a thimble full is necessary to achieve a few hours of invisibility. We don't know how much Pansy took—"

"If it was Pansy in the first place."

"Right, but let's just say she did take a vial full. Imagine how much invisibility that could give the Slytherins. I don't like them having that kind of power."

"Me neither," I whispered carefully, "but threats would only put Carlisle and Esme in a difficult position."

"Who said anything about threats?" she asked quickly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"If not through threats, how exactly are we going to solve this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She threw me an enormous, impish smile, and I suddenly had a strong suspicion that I would soon be witnessing the infamous and legendary side of Isabella Swan—the one her comrades had told me so much about… the one I had not yet had the pleasure of meeting.

"We're going to stage a heist," she said, pausing for dramatic effect. "We breaking into Slytherin House."

**A/N: For all the Brits out there, if you can guess the character I based the Defence Professor on, I'll send you a cyber hug. The clue is in the name.**

**Celo = to conceal; Celeritas = quickness: so it's a quick concealment. =)**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. I'd appreciate reviews. I'm kind of in need of a confidence boost after the last couple of weeks. Hehe. Thanks all. Hoping you're well. Giggle.**


	13. The Heist

**A/N: Aaaargh! Sorry, guys, I've been having some technical difficulties recently. My laptop wouldn't charge, and before I could send the chapter to email, the power cut out. It had to go in for repairs, and I had to rewrite the entire thing again on my desktop computer, since I have no idea when I'll be getting it back. Honestly, the things I do for you lot! Ha ha. Hope you like this one as much as I enjoyed writing it… well, as much as I enjoyed writing it the first time around. **

**Because I'm an absolute numpty on occasion, I've only just figured out how to alter previous chapters. It's been staring me in the face for months! So if you happen to get an alert saying I've been messing around with this story and the prequel, it's just because I'm fixing typos and making corrections.**

**Oh, and to psykojinx, I'm hoping you'll be satisfied with this chapter and the next one. Your request influenced the direction the plot is going to take. So, thank you. ;)**

"This is ridiculous, Bella!" Hermione cried, her arms raised in disbelief. "It's the most reckless thing you've ever suggested. Do you even realise how much trouble we could get in for something like this?"

"Of course I do," I replied, "but are you telling me we should just sit back and do nothing?"

"Absolutely not. I'm telling you we should report it to a teacher and let them deal with it."

"Yeah, because that'll help. Face it, Hermione. The Slytherins are in possession of an entire vial of Celo Celeritas, and if we don't do something about it, they're going to use it against us and the other Houses."

"I'm with Bella," said Harry.

"Me too," Ron announced. Hermione stared at him incredulously, but he refused to be influenced. "If we let them get away with this, they're going to think they can walk all over us."

"I don't like allowing them that kind of power," Harry continued. "Besides, it's not like we haven't broken into Slytherin before."

I raised an eyebrow at Hermione, daring her to protest again.

"Yes, because a giant basilisk was roaming the castle and petrifying students!" She huffed and sunk onto the couch next to Alice. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. It would take a month to brew the Polyjuice Potion, and by that time, the Slytherins will probably have used up the entire vial."

"We don't need the potion, though, do we," Ginny pointed out. "The only reason it was necessary last time was so you could interrogate Malfoy. If it's just for sneaking around, Harry's cloak will do the trick."

The bushy haired witch still looked unconvinced.

"Come on, Hermione," I pleaded. "You've broken into a Gringott's vault for heaven's sake! This should be a cinch in comparison."

There was a brief pause, the room silent save for the sound of the girl's foot tapping against the rug. She sank further into the cushions, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Finally, she seemed to relent. "Oh alright."

Ron's grin was immediate. He bounded over to couch and sat down beside his girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek. She blushed and smiled at him.

"Who's going to do the honours then?" Harry questioned. "We can't all fit under the cloak. It'll have to be two at the most."

"I'm going," I almost growled, overwhelmed by the desire for revenge.

"No," said Edward, stepping into the centre of the circle, "a vampire would be the best choice for something like this. I'll go. I'll be in and out in a flash. Sniffing out the vial won't be a problem."

"It can't be you," I argued calmly, shaking my head.

He spun to face me, his expression a mixture of disbelief and irritation. He was about to protest, but I cut him off before he got the chance.

"You're a guy. The potion will be somewhere in Pansy's dormitory. You won't be able to get in without triggering the alarms."

"Bella's right," agreed Hermione. "It's going to have to be a girl."

Edward's face fell with disappointment. He sighed and came to stand beside me.

"Well," said Emmett, after a few more moments of silence, "I think the obvious choice is Alice. Her visions would be a definite advantage on this kind of mission." He threw her a teasing grin. "Besides, her size will mean that someone else can go along for the ride. Right, shortie?"

She grinned and nodded, her eyes wandering over the females making up our group. "The question is… who?"

As of yet, the vampires, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione and myself were the only people occupying the common room. The others students hadn't yet managed to crawl out of bed, but they would soon enough, and we needed to make a decision before we were interrupted.

"It should be either Bella or Hermione," Ginny proclaimed. "As well as the fact that they both deserve to go after that stunt Pansy pulled, it would make more sense to take a witch. It would give us the perfect recipe for a successful heist: speed, strength, enhanced senses, foresight, and magic."

I wanted to wave my arms above my head, jump up and down, and scream 'Pick me', but I resisted. Hermione had just as much right to volunteer as I did, and since I'd already expressed my desire to go, she deserved the same chance.

Her foot tapped against the rug once again whilst she gnawed anxiously at her lower lip. Finally, she sighed, her eyes landing on me. "I think Bella should get first refusal. She's more enthusiastic about this than I am, and it was her idea in the first place."

Everyone's eyes landed on me as they awaited my decision.

"What do you say, Bells?" said Harry. "You up for it?"

I smiled wickedly. "Absolutely."

To say that I was impatient for the night would have been a massive understatement.

Breakfast time was filled with hushed conversation and whispered plotting, though it was interrupted by the occasional snide remark. At first, it was easy enough to ignore the sneering, but as the Slytherin table grew more crowded, it became more difficult to block it all out.

"No dribbling today, Swan?" mocked Daphne Greengrass. She cackled loudly, as did her buddies.

"Ignore them," commanded Alice, her voice level and controlled. "They'll get what's coming to them."

"Is that a certainty?" I asked hopefully.

"It will be if I have anything to do with it."

I smiled. My best friend certainly knew how to comfort me.

We continued to scheme as we ate. Ron repeatedly insisted that our visit into Slytherin House should include a prank of some sort―something that would make the 'conniving buggers think twice before challenging Gryffindor again'. I couldn't deny that the idea of breaking in without causing a little mayhem seemed wasteful. Dozens of scenarios flew through my mind as I nibbled on my toast. I was just finishing up when the morning post arrived.

Usually, my mum gave me at least a week to settle in before she began bombarding me with letters, so I was a little surprised when a tawny owl swooped down towards me, a small emerald box tied with silver ribbon clutched firmly in its talons. The owl behind it carried an identical package. They both released the boxes in the same moment, being careful not to fly too low in their efforts to avoid the vampires. I held out my hands to catch my mail, but Edward beat me to it. In one blindingly fast movement, he snatched the two boxes from the air, crushing one until it was nothing more than shredded cardboard and misshapen plastic.

"Edward!" I protested. "What did you do that for?"

He didn't answer; instead, he turned to stare over his shoulder, his eyes landing instantly on Pansy Parkinson. His expression mirrored his sister's, calm and unruffled. In the ensuing seconds, however, it underwent a transformation. The corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly, as if he had a secret, before his lips spread further into a mocking smile. His eyes went from bored to piercing, never straying from the Slytherin girl I disliked so severely.

She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. The colour drained from her face as she stared, and I knew that her heart would be beating twice its usual pace.

"Edward, if you give the girl a heart attack, Bella and I won't be able to have our fun," Alice complained quietly.

He gave a single humourless laugh, before he turned his back on Pansy, finally releasing her.

"Here," he murmured, tossing the undamaged box over to his tiny sister, "get the scent."

She followed his instruction, loosening the ribbon and lifting the lid, though not enough that I could make out what was inside. Anyone observing her would have guessed that she was merely examining the contents. I suppose the inner scent was stronger, since the traces left on the exterior had been confused with those belonging to owls and vampires.

"What's in the box?" asked Ron, unable to curb his curiosity.

"It doesn't matter," said Edward. "Just some petty Slitheryn joke―seriously unimaginative."

I smirked. "If it's that lame, just tell us."

"Yeah, come on, Edward," Ginny encouraged. "Hermione and Bells aren't made of glass. We could use a good laugh."

Edward sighed, waving a hand at his sister, indicating for her to proceed. She rolled her eyes and tipped the box upside down, shaking her head as the object clattered onto the table.

I reached out my hand to pick it up, staring at it in disbelief.

"It's a pacifier," I said dumbly.

My eyes found Hermione's; we stared at each other for one brief moment, before the air rang with the sound of our chuckles.

"That's it? That's the best they can come up with?"

Edward's relief was instantaneous; his posture relaxed and he chortled.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was unimaginative," Ginny told him. "That's the blandest attempt at mocking I've ever seen. I almost feel sorry for them."

"Me too," I agreed. "Now we're definitely going to have to show them how it's done. We can't have these kind of standards at Hogwarts. It could damage the school's reputation."

Ron ruffled my hair, clearly enjoying my reasoning. "I like the way you think, Bells. Let's make it good."

Unlike Ginny and the vampires, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I had a free period first thing. The Cullens left to go to class, whilst the four of us returned to the common room. Technically, I should've been using the time to get on with my homework, but no matter how hard I tried, the subjects couldn't hold my attention long enough for me to make any progress. In the end, I just gave up, sweeping my parchment to one side, before filling my thoughts with potential pranks and discussing them with the boys.

Hermione was too busy to contribute to the conversation, which was actually a real shame, since the three of us were coming up blank.

Plotting had to be put on hold when the hour ended. Though Transfiguration was once again interesting, we were set a difficult essay. We had to write twelve inches by the following Monday, describing our 'primal instincts and natural impulses', indicating the times they were at their strongest. I didn't know about anyone else, but I wasn't sure how I was going to manage to write that many words about myself. Furthermore, it seemed a bit personal for homework. I guess I couldn't complain; I desperately wanted to become an Animagus, after all.

Discussion immediately returned to the impending heist at lunch time. Ron fired a bunch of ideas at us, but they were all either too feeble or poorly thought out. Luckily, we had the entire afternoon to work on it, as we'd be spending it together in the greenhouses during a double round of Herbology.

I knew the second I walked through the door that I wasn't going to enjoy the species of plants we'd be studying this year. My pessimism may have had something to do with the monstrous flora sitting in the pots at the far end of the room.

Their purple stems were vase-like. The bases were fat and ball-shaped, waxy in appearance, their circumference possibly twice as large as my waist size. Their necks were narrower, about the width of my wrist at their slimmest point, and each supported a giant blossom resembling an oversized passion flower. The outer petals were lily-white, stretching out like fans, beneath an inner ring of small, plum-coloured stamina. At the centre, instead of a stigma, there was a hole―a throat, even―which was lined by dozens of crimson, razor-like teeth.

They certainly weren't the kind of thing I would have chosen for my garden, and I couldn't say that I was terribly enthusiastic about the idea of handling one. Fortunately, I knew I'd be able to count on the aid of the vampires, so my concern was more for my friends that myself.

"Does anyone know the name of this species?" Professor Sprout inquired. "Ah, yes, Mr Longbottom."

_"Gluto Puniceus," _Neville answered confidently, "or Purple Glutton, though it's more commonly referred to as Gluttony."

"And why is that?"

"Because it'll try to eat anything that gets near it, including humans."

"Maybe you could stick one in the Slytherin Common Room, Bells," Ron muttered under his breath.

I smiled. The idea of Parkinson getting gobbled up by a plant was actually quite an appealing one.

_Definitely tempting._

After the professor had ended her lecture and we'd been sent off to work, we continued our discussion on potential pranks.

"You could fire spells at them from beneath the cloak," Emmett suggested.

"Too much of a give away," Hermione responded, shaking her head.

I carefully reached into our plant's mouth whilst Edward held it open, using my pliers to pull out the teeth. It was a process that required a certain amount of delicacy: if it was done too quickly or carelessly, they were likely to fall down the back of the throat and into the Glutton's belly. The other students were less at ease as they carried out their work. They had had to perform freezing charms on their subjects instead. They seemed terrified that the charms would break suddenly, leaving the flowers free to attack anyone unlucky enough to have their hands inside.

According to Sprout, Gluttony injected a paralyzing toxin into its prey's bloodstream to make feeding easier. The substance itself was actually a necessary ingredient in various potions, usually medical related. Luckily, the poison was neither painful nor lethal, though I doubted the same could be said about the way it was administered.

Our group finished with fifteen minutes to spare, and we were just cleaning up when a piercing scream suddenly exploded through the air. I searched for the source, my eyes snapping this way and that, before they finally came to land on a very pale and shocked Terry Boot. My stomach twisted with nausea as I realised that his left hand was covered in blood, the crimson fluid spurting from the middle finger, which was no where near as long as it should have been.

"What happened?" Sprout cried, rushing to boy's side.

He didn't answer though, because the toxins were already taking effect. He fell back against the floor, slipping quickly into unconsciousness.

The professor extracted her wand from her pocket and pointed it at Terry's stump, which immediately stopped its bleeding. She then aimed it at the man-eating culprit, her face calm as she performed her next spell.

"_Regurgitate."_

The plant jerked, seeming to double over as a stream of yellow liquid spewed from its mouth and onto the floor. In the middle of the pungent puddle fell the missing, bloody finger end. The teacher reached down to pick it up, examining it for a few moments, before she shrugged and lobbed it in the bin.

"Never mind," she sang, casting a freezing charm on the flower, "nothing a night in the hospital wing won't fix. Nasty business, though, re-growing body parts. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, his expression empathetic as he gazed on at his the unfortunate victim.

"Right," the Professor continued, "I'm going to need someone to take Mr. Boot up to Madam Pomfrey."

Her eyes found the Cullens, and she looked as if she was about to speak, but then seemed to think better of it.

In the fast-unfolding madness, I had completely forgotten about the vampires and the impulses the scent of fresh blood would awaken. It hadn't seemed to affect them, though, and instead of the hunger I had expected to see dominating their expressions, I perceived a mixture of concern and surprise.

"It's alright," Jasper said, stepping forwards. "We're not thirsty. We had dragon's blood for breakfast."

"Oh… well, in that case, Mr. Hale, would you mind carrying this poor chap up to the hospital wing? Miss Swan will show you where to find it."

Jasper shot forwards at inhuman speed, scooping the limp pupil into his arms, before turning back to face me. I took a deep breath, carefully wiping the light sheen from my forehead, determined not to let the rusty odour affect me. If the vampire with the least self-control could handle it, so could I. I spun on my heels, ready to lead him out of the greenhouse, but Edward caught my arm before I could take the first step.

"Bella, are you alright? You look a little green."

"I'm fine," I mumbled. He didn't look convinced. "Really, I'll be ok once I get away from the smell. I'll see you in a bit."

He nodded then, releasing his grip and allowing me to walk away. When the reeking combination of blood and Gluttony stomach acid was no longer assaulting my nostrils, the threat of vomiting passed, bringing instant relief.

"Feeling better?" asked Jasper. He was inspecting my face, probably assessing whether or not my skin had returned to its normal shade of pale, as opposed to the extra pallid one brought about by nausea.

"Yeah, especially now we've left the homicidal weeds behind."

"I wouldn't call them weeds if I were you. That's what Terry said right before the one behind him lunged and took a snap at his finger."

I gawked. "Are you telling me that that thing did this to him out of spite?"

"Pretty much."

"Huh," I muttered dumbly, shaking my head, "should've known I guess."

The vampire's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

"Most murderous plants on the syllabus try to kill because they're in a permanently bad mood."

"You make it sound normal," Jasper said incredulously.

"Well, thinking about it, it is. Devil's Snare is the worst. Then there are Mandrakes, which are the grumpiest of the lot. They'd give an Empath like you a headache."

"I doubt it," he smiled. "My abilities only usually apply to vampires and homo sapiens, Bella."

I grinned back at him, enjoying the easy interaction and light-hearted conversation. He looked nothing like the bloodthirsty predator who had once tried to kill me. I suppose that was why he'd been so keen to accept the task Professor Sprout had set him―he probably wanted to take advantage of his new freedom more than anyone.

Finally, we turned into the hospital wing, which was completely empty, save for Madam Pomfrey. The nurse came hurrying over to meet us, her expression anxious as she recognised Jasper.

"What happened?" she snapped accusingly.

Her assumption set my blood boiling, anger surging through every cell in my body, until it finally dulled under Jasper's soothing influence.

He threw me a quick, grateful smile before turning to address the witch. "We're studying Gluttony in Herbology, Ma'am."

The nurse's expression instantly turned apologetic, before she huffed and said, "There's always one. Last time it was Cormac McLaggen."

The last shred of irritation vanished with this new information, though I did my best to conceal my amusement from Madam Pomfrey. I doubted she'd forgive me if she discovered I was taking such pleasure in another's misfortune.

"The poor boy had to spend an entire week in the wing―he was _that_ shaken by it―even though it only took one night to set him right. Wouldn't set foot in the greenhouses until they'd finished Gluttony, not that anyone could blame him―the ghastly thing stole something a bit more precious than a finger."

I gulped, my eyes flicking to Jasper, who looked seriously uncomfortable with the direction the discussion was taking. He walked forwards and lowered the paralysed student onto the bed, before we both said goodbye and shuffled back out into the hallway.

We still had ten minutes until the end of class, so the corridors were practically deserted. We walked in comfortable silence, occasionally passing a wandering ghost or the odd student enjoying a free period.

"I want to thank you, Bella," Jasper said suddenly, his voice swimming with sincerity.

"For what?" I asked, taken aback.

"For your reaction back there, when Madam Pomfrey jumped to the wrong conclusion. You're really protective of our family, aren't you?"

"You're all important to me. I've never had people that I could call siblings before." I blushed and shrugged it off. "I like it."

"I'm glad," he replied. "I'm glad Edward found you… and not just because you make him happy or because you're a good friend to Alice…

"We were alright before you came along, but the atmosphere was… well, it was a little glum. A product of repetition, I suppose. At the time, it was bearable, but I don't think I could go back to it after everything that's happened since."

A massive grin suddenly spread across his face, exposing his sparkling, white teeth. "We're all happy now―now that we've found a place for ourselves, somewhere we're accepted. It's a good climate to be in for someone like me. It's like medicine… Happy medicine."

"Happy medicine," I repeated, considering his choice of phrase. It didn't take me long to decide that I liked it. If Jasper, the most temperamental and morose vampire of the bunch, was enjoying his new lifestyle, I was convinced that the others would be equally content.

We sank back into the comfortable silence, finally exiting onto the Grand Staircase.

"Class is about to finish." I said eventually. "We may as well wait for the others in the Common Room. There'd be no point now going back down to the greenhouses now. Besides, I've had enough of those beastly plants for one day."

I set off climbing, thoughts of the warm fire and cosy armchairs filling my mind. It wasn't until I turned to walk up the next set of stairs that I registered Jasper's absence. The honey-haired vampire was still rooted to the spot beside the door, his eyes glassy as if he was having one of Alice's visions.

"I think…" He trailed off, shortly after which his eyes resumed focus. He looked up at me then, his face alight with mischief. "I think I've just figured out how to repay our Slytherin friends."

I didn't think twice as I raced back down to his side, taking the steps two at a time, despite my balance issues.

"Beasts," he whispered excitedly, carefully scanning the nearby portraits to ensure he hadn't been overheard. Being an Empath, he didn't need to see my expression to read my confusion. He turned his back to me and said, "Get on. I'll show you after we get back to the tower."

The second my arms and legs were locked firmly in position, he rocketed away, tearing up the levels like a missile, too impatient to travel at a slow, human speed.

"What?" he asked when I laughed at him.

I shook my head and laughed again.

He didn't lower me to the ground until we'd passed into the boys' dormitory, but the second he was free, he dove towards the chest at the foot of Emmett's bed, rummaging through its contents until he pulled out a red box labelled _Hypnotic Fudge: Beastly Edition. _I recognised it as the candy his brother had bought in Zester's Palace during our visit to Uluru.

"If you promise to smuggle a camera under the cloak when you sneak into Slytherin," he explained, "I'm sure Emmett would be happy to donate his Australian purchase to the cause."

And just like that, the last thread in the fabric of my relationship with Jasper was sewn into place, sealing our connection and strengthening our friendship further still.

Now that he no longer had to spend every second focusing on reining in the bloodlust, his original nature would finally be able to battle its way to the forefront, the charismatic strategist slash mischievous brotherly figure overpowering the weakened monster.

A wicked smile crept onto his face, mirroring my own, and we swiftly set to work, the plot evolving as we conspired.

I had a feeling this would be the start of a beautiful thing. I could see it now: Jasper Whitlock and Isabella Swan, notorious partners in crime.

*

It was quarter to eight and the plan was set. After Jasper's stroke of brilliance, everything else had clicked into place. By the time the others had returned, we had finished our formulating, both of us sprawled out on separate beds, laughing our heads off. Edward, of course, was already in on the scheme and, thus, helped us to explain it to those still out of the loop.

The only individual who expressed reluctance was Hermione. Over the course of the day, she had become more and more resolved on the idea that the Secrecy Serum could not remain in the possession of the Slytherins; regardless of that, however, she had her reservations when it came to prank-related topics.

"I don't know that this is such a good idea," she said as Alice and I slipped into our black leggings.

I wasn't sure why, but the pixie had insisted we dress for the occasion; when compared to some of the things she'd forced me into in the past, however, this was hardly something to complain about. By the time I had finished dressing, I looked like the stereotypical spy. The only thing I needed now was an ear-piece.

"You need a code name," Emmett pointed out, after we'd crossed back over to the boys' dormitory. "I vote 'Golden Eye' and 'Black Klutz.'"

I threw him a disgruntled look.

"Don't be ridiculous," Alice snorted. "Golden-Eye is both unoriginal and a dead give away. How about 'Dolce' and 'Gabanna?'"

"How about we just go?" I suggested, stuffing the hypnotic fudge into my backpack.

Alice turned her back to me, waiting for my arms to lock around her neck. When I was securely in position, Harry threw the invisibility cloak over the top of us, concealing us from view.

"Right," said Ron, "you're all set. Remember to take as many photos as you can. We want to see the mayhem too."

"We will do," my accomplice assured him, before she set off towards the door.

"Bye," I called over my shoulder, my eyes landing on Edward.

He was nervously nibbling on his bottom lip, though he waved and wished us good luck nonetheless. Rosalie and Hermione looked equally worried, but the others were wearing confident expressions, especially Jasper, not that I could blame him―his wife was like a precognitive cross between James Bond and Wonder Woman, only smaller… fun-sized.

She snuck down the stairs and across the Common Room, avoiding the energetic students as she followed Ginny to the portrait hole. Obviously we couldn't just walk out of Gryffindor whilst invisible―the painting swinging forth of its own accord would surely draw attention, so our friend would conveniently be heading off to the library to return a book she had borrowed earlier that day.

We separated on the staircase, Ginny turning onto the fourth floor corridor, whilst Alice and I continued our descent.

The dungeons were somehow gloomier at night time, which probably was more a result of their emptiness, for the light was much the same as it was during the day. Alice had timed our arrival to match that of Millicent Bulstrode. The heavyset bully came trudging along the corridor, stuffing her face with a pumpkin pasty as she walked. Alice gently squeezed my leg to ensure I was ready, sneaking up behind the Slytherin girl as she passed.

I aimed my wand at the girl's bulky figure and whispered, _"Confundo."_

The idea for the charm had been inspired by Professor Snape. Edward had told me soon after the battle of everything Harry had seen in the Pensieve, including the manipulation of Mundungus Fletcher. The Confudus charm would be the perfect way to smuggle the trick candy into the House.

"You will take this candy into the Slytherin Common Room," I instructed silkily, sliding a hand from beneath the cloak to pass Millicent the disguised fudge. Ginny had charmed the box whilst Alice and I had been preparing, erasing any indicator of the contents' true nature.

"You will loudly tell the inhabitants that you stole it from a young Gryffindor student, before offering them each a share. You will ensure that Pansy Parkinson receives the first piece. After the others have eaten, you shall do the same, providing that there is some left. If the students ask you later to identify the child you robbed, you will not accuse _anyone. _You will claim to have forgotten. You will not remember this encounter. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she responded mechanically, taking the box and transferring it to her bag.

"Go," commanded Alice.

She followed the girl silently, her footsteps inaudible against the stone floor. Finally, Millicent came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a blank wall, though I already knew from Ron and Harry's description that it was the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"Parselmouth," she called.

The wall slid open to admit us.

The second I saw the lengthy room, I mentally thanked my lucky stars that I was in Gryffindor. The rough stone walls and the green light emitted by the hanging lamps gave it a cold, creepy feel; when it came to interior design, it wasn't to my taste at all.

"Look what I've got!" Millicent exclaimed, waving the box of fudge above her head, causing dozens of eyes to suddenly focus in on her. "Stole it from an ickle, baby Gryffindor. Who wants some?"

The pupils cheered and jumped up from their places, each of them charging to ensure they received their share.

"You should definitely get some, Pansy," the girl announced, handing her friend a piece. "That stunt with the mudbloods was genius!"

"Wasn't it just," Pansy laughed derisively.

I suppressed the urge to growl at the horrid student, instead willing her to eat the offering. Hands swiped at the fudge from every direction, the crowd surrounding Millicent growing by the second. I breathed a satisfied sigh as they each stuffed a piece into their mouths and began chewing.

At first, I thought the fudge was faulty, because the only reaction the students gave were positive ones, savouring the flavour, their eyes glittering with satisfaction. Suddenly, however, someone released a very pig-like snort… which was then followed by a chorus of pig-like snorts, along with a round of confused clucking, frantic mooing, and loud baaing. It was like music to my ears―a symphony to rival those of the even greatest musical composers.

Alice turned her head to look at me, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she laughed silently at the hysterical spectacle.

We took as many photos as possible. The effects of the fudge were only due to last for five minutes, so we would be devoting three quarters of that time to documenting the event, whilst the remaining time would be spent retrieving the vial. I doubted that Alice would need that long though―she'd easily be able to sniff it out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

If I hadn't been clinging to Alice's body, I would have been doubling over. It was one of the most hilarious pranks I'd ever been involved in. Not only did the candy have the power to hypnotise, it also gave the individuals who'd consumed it a feature of the animal they were imitating.

Pansy Parkinson had sprouted a snout, and had dunked her face into a box of chocolates that had been left by the fire. I suppose her IQ had been reduced to the point where she didn't think to use her hands. When she finally surfaced, the lower part of her face was covered in melted chocolate.

The camera flashed.

Goyle seemed to be under the impression that he was a turkey. The skin of his neck was wrinkly and saggy. It would have looked almost normal on a one hundred year-old man. Almost. He ran the length of the common room, arms outstretched, gobbling frenetically as he went. I laughed so hard I thought my ribs would crack.

The camera flashed.

Daphne Greengrass didn't seem to mind the pandemonium; she was preoccupied with eating her homework. The billy-goat beard was a nice touch. Maybe the Slytherins were into hairy women. Beside her sat her sister, Astoria, along with Theodore Nott, both of whom had sprouted similar beards and were managing to sink their teeth into the leather armchairs.

The camera flashed.

"What the hell!"

My eyes snapped to the far end of the room in search of the one who had cried out. Through the jumble of flailing arms and rushing bodies, I managed to make out a very shocked Blaise Zabini. Draco Malfoy stood beside him, his mouth hanging open as he took in the scene. They'd probably heard the racket from their dorms and had decided to come and investigate.

"Hold on," Alice whispered, before darting around the obstructing students, stopping only when we were a metres from the pair. She held the camera at the ready, obviously knowing in advance that a beautiful Kodak moment was about to unfold.

A vicious grunt from across the room demanded my attention. My gaze locked on Millicent. She was glaring at Blaise like he'd accused her of being a mudblood, foaming at the mouth as her fury escalated. Her shoes had fallen off, owing to the fact that her feet had morphed. She scraped a hoof against the floor and leaned forwards.

My eyes found Blaise again. He wasn't dressed in his school robes; he'd changed into something a little more comfortable. Instead, he was wearing baggy jeans and a helix mapping, woolen t-shirt… A bright red, helix mapping, woolen t-shirt… red being the operative word.

The camera flashed a dozen times as Millicent began her charge. The entire thing seemed to play out in slow motion. Her saliva splattered outwards as she beat her feet against the stone floor, grunting madly as she went.

Blaise's face horrorstruck, his body unmoving, immobilized through sheer terror. Perhaps he'd expected his fellow Slytherin to halt as she reached him, or decelerate at the very least.

Luckily, she didn't.

When only a metre or so separated her from her from her target, she launched herself from the ground, seeming to summon as much power as she could to propel herself through the air.

Blaise's screams of dread were cut short as the attacker's head collided with his chest. His eyes bulged to ridiculous size, and he fell backwards against the floor, thoroughly winded, Millicent tumbling after him. Even after she'd collapsed on top of the unfortunate Slytherin, however, the force of her leap sent her sliding forwards, so that she ended up with her face pressed against the stone floor, her enormous bust smothering the boy's face.

His legs kicked madly at empty air as he desperately fought to free himself. It was no use, though; Millicent was simply too heavy. Draco, who was too astonished to remember that the problem could be solved through wand work, tried to tug her off his friend, but it was to no avail.

The camera flashed.

I pressed my mouth against Alice's shoulder, knowing that if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to contain my laughter. My chest was trembling so violently it was virtually painful. My eyes filled with tears as I looked on at the chaos.

It was glorious.

In the next few seconds, Blaise managed to turn his head to the side so that he was free to speak… and breathe.

"Gerr 'r off me!" he managed to choke out.

Millicent lay unmoving; she'd knocked herself out with the blow, so even if the magic wore off ahead of time, she wouldn't be shifting to free her victim.

Draco continued his attempts to move her, but he was having no luck.

The icing on the cake came from the first year I recognised as Malum Maugraine. Until now, he'd been trying to round up the baaing, wooly students, but had given up when his efforts continued to prove unsuccessful. He trotted happily over to the sprawled couple, his tongue lolling out, whilst his tail wagged cheerfully behind him.

Draco gave a cautious pause, much to Blaise's irritation. He was distracted from that, however, when the little boy cocked his leg and began marking his territory. Most of it soaked into his trousers, but the bit that didn't trickled onto my nemesis' jeans. Blaise stopped struggling immediately.

The camera flashed.

"Pliz tell me 'e di-un't," he uttered, his voice disbelieving.

Malfoy's answering silence said it all.

We left the madness behind us then, having snapped enough shots to satisfy the others. There were no staircases like I had expected there to be; instead, there was a corridor which branched into two. Alice took the one leading off to the right. I wondered briefly what devices the founders had installed to prevent the boys from sneaking off into the dormitories forbidden to them. A trap door, perhaps, or a metal drop gate? I cast the thought aside as Alice stopped at the third door, and held my breath as she pushed I open, before sliding into the room.

Naturally, there were no windows; we were under the lake, after all. The light was much the same as it had been in the common room, green and eerie against the dark wooden furniture and the ivy bedspreads. The walls and ceiling had once again been constructed from rough stone, and had numerous small alcoves inbuilt to shelve the students' possessions.

Alice immediately darted to one holding a number of framed pictures. Pansy was present in each photo, though she stood alongside different people. One was of her with her Slytherin girlfriends. In another she stood beside two individuals I took to be her parents. The image in the largest and most ornate frame showed her sandwiched between Draco and Blaise.

The inky haired vampire sniffed at the last picture and removed it from the shelf. She stared at the vacant space for no more than a second, before reaching her hand up to snatch at the empty air.

"Got it," she sang.

It took me a moment to remember that the vial would have turned invisible after being dipped in the serum. I was suddenly grateful that I was undertaking this mission with a vampire; there was no way I would've been able to find the potion alone. Alice handed it back to me and waited until I had placed it in the bag. When that was done, she hastily flew from the room, darting back along the corridor and into the main area.

The place was an absolute sty, and that was putting it mildly. I could barely believe that so much destruction could occur in such a short space of time. Papers were scattered everywhere, ink was splattered all over the walls, the students' clothes were ripped and tattered, deep chunks were missing from the leather chairs, a table had collapsed after one of the legs had given way, and the emerald and silver hangings had been pulled to the ground.

Alice took one last photo, before shooting across to the exit, officially ending our time in Slytherin House. We didn't need to be inconspicuous about our departure―everyone was far too busy to notice the wall sliding open. The second it had shifted back into place, the two of us burst out into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. I cried shamelessly, dabbing at my eyes with one hand, my other still firmly wrapped around my best friend's neck.

"That was… brilliant," I wheezed between laughing.

Alice nodded, unable to speak as she shook and clutched her stomach.

"Brilliant," she agreed finally, once we'd both managed to calm down. "Come on, let's get back. The others are dying to know how it went. Edward tried to commentate, but he was laughing too much to make a decent job of it. Emmett and Jasper are getting impatient."

I gripped her tighter as she zoomed off through the dungeon maze, smiling broadly as we tore up the winding staircase and out of the gloomy sublevels.

Everything had unfolded perfectly, but it wasn't until after we'd performed our prank that we hit one seriously major snag. As we launched up towards Gryffindor tower, Carlisle came walking out onto the staircase with Hagrid, his eyes immediately narrowing in confusion.

My heart began pumping madly as Alice slowed to a stop. Trust it to be this night when Hagrid―a blind spot in her vision―decided that he wanted to roam the castle beyond his usual hour.

The pair had just turned out of the fourth floor corridor, so I assumed they'd been visiting the library. It made sense, considering that they were both carrying a pile of books.

"Well, I'll see yer tomorra, Professor."

Carlisle blinked rapidly, as if exiting a trance, before he turned his eyes on the gamekeeper and said, "Oh, um… yes, goodnight, Hagrid. See you tomorrow."

He smiled as he waved the Head of Gryffindor goodbye, his golden eyes trailing after the massive man who was now making his way down the stairs. Alice pressed us against the wall as he passed, the two of us only just missing him due to his enormous girth.

When he'd finally disappeared from sight, Carlisle's smile faded and his eyes landed on my accomplice and me. He shook his head and smiled, before turning to walk up the stairs.

"You two had better follow me."

_Great, _I thought_, now we're in for it._

Alice threw me an irritated look. I gawked at her, as if to say _'what―are you going to tell me I should have asked my heart to be quiet for a minute or two?'_

She followed Carlisle silently until we reached the fifth floor, where he held the door open for us, waiting until we'd passed into the corridor. Alice already knew the way to her parents' office, so she walked ahead, opening the door and stepping into the luxuriously furnished room.

The room was exquisite.

An enormous tapestry bordered by gold taffeta hung on the far wall. Its size and vibrancy made it the room's main feature, and I marveled as my eyes travelled over the utopia it painted. It showed a lush garden inhabited by every manner of creature. The sky was a mesmerizing gold, rendered with the light of the setting sun, which caught the edges of the trees and animals. My gaze lingered on the unicorn lying in the shade of the orange tree. Its white coat was lovely against the warm tones.

I quickly realised that the Esme had coordinated the rest of the room to fit with the tapestry's colour scheme. Gold, silk curtains trailed from ceiling to floor beside the massive windows, whilst the two white couches by the fireplace were loaded with cushions made from gold, orange and magenta fabric.

Esme looked up from her work, her brow wrinkling in confusion as she sniffed the air.

"So, girls," said Carlisle, "would one of you care to explain why you've been sneaking around the castle? I'm assuming that the fact that you're both invisible means you've been up to no good."

Alice huffed and pulled the cloak from over us. Esme gasped, leaving her desk behind as she went to stand beside her husband, the two of them wearing expectant expressions. I sighed, loosening my grip so that I could stand beside the pixie-like vampire.

"Why are you both dressed like you just tried to break into a vault?" Esme questioned. She raised an eyebrow at us, waiting for our response; evidently she was taking her new job very seriously.

I gave a quiet, nervous laugh. "Interesting choice of words."

Alice elbowed me in the ribs, an action which wasn't missed by her mother and father. I winced and rubbed at the spot she'd hit. It had been gentle enough that it wouldn't have hurt had her skin been made from a substance a little less hard.

"Bella and I were on a mission," she explained, her expression unapologetic.

"What kind of mission?" asked Carlisle.

There was a brief moment of silence, before Alice just came out with it.

"We broke into Slytherin."

My eyes bugged out of their sockets and my jaw dropped. Alice looked unconcerned, though.

"Pansy Parkinson stole a vial of Celo Celeritas―invisibility serum―during our first lesson with Professor Slughorn. That's why she was able to spike Bella and Hermione's drinks last night. We'd already decided that the Slytherins wouldn't stop abusing the potion's power until it ran out when I had the vision that confirmed it."

"What vision?" Esme's worry was painted all over her face as she spoke, obviously concerned for the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff students.

"They were going to use it to bully the first-years and Muggle-Borns," Alice lied. I tried to keep my expression fixed and confident as she continued, my eyes locking on Carlisle. "So we snuck in and stole it back. It only took a few minutes, but it seemed irresponsible to just let them terrorise the little ones."

"May I see it?" the blonde vampire requested, holding out his hand for the potion.

I swung the bag from my shoulders and handed it to Alice, who unzipped it and reached in to retrieve the invisible vial. She danced forwards and placed it in her father's waiting palm. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as his fingers closed around what appeared to be empty air.

"Well, I suppose it would have been wrong to allow the Slytherins to abuse such a thing," he admitted. He crossed over to the desk, where he placed our prize.

I felt my disappointment swell as I realised it was being confiscated.

"Is there anything else we need to know?"

"Nope," replied Alice, innocently batting her eyelashes.

Carlisle shook his head; clearly, he was unconvinced, but he smiled and let it drop nonetheless.

Esme smiled lovingly, before opening her arms for us. We both ran into them, wrapping our arms around her waist. She pressed kisses against our foreheads. I sighed as I felt the cold skin of her hands through the fabric of my clothes as she rubbed soothing patterns onto my back.

Carlisle hugged us individually. He stroked my chin and kissed my hair, after which he wished us both goodnight.

"Go on, rascals, back to your House. I think you've had enough vicarious fun for one night."

"There's nothing wrong with being a secret agent," Alice chuckled, swinging me back into position. "I may consider it as a profession."

"You do that," Esme laughed, throwing the cloak back over us. "Night night, Dears."

"Good night," Carlisle smiled.

"Night," Alice and I chorused, before we shot out of the room and back down the corridor, stopping only seconds later in front of the Fat Lady. We removed the cloak once again and stuffed it into the bag, instead extracting the books we had packed earlier. They were our props; we would be entering the common room under the pretense of having just returned from the library.

The others were waiting for us in the boys' dormitory. They practically attacked us as we entered, demanding information and laughing hysterically when they received it. Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie and Edward were practically howling when Alice came to the part where Millicent Bulstrode had seen red. Harry, Ron and Ginny had tears streaking their face as we told them of Malum's finishing touch. Even Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

I smiled as I settled into Edward's arms, knowing that our mission was very near its completion. There was only one last thing left to do―one final lesson to teach.

*

Breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning was a memorable event. The madness began as the owls flew in with the morning post. There were far more deliveries than usual that day, each carrier swooping down to one of the four tables to release a stream of papers.

"I doubt the weatherman could have predicted this," said Rosalie, sending a smirk in my direction.

Within a matter of seconds, the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs broke out into deafening laughter, a few of them banging their fists against the tables as they studied their post.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, looked murderous. I could practically see the steam shooting from Pansy's ears. Millicent was gripping the table furiously, her teeth clenched in rage, the tendons on the back of her hands protruding grotesquely.

"This is the best day of my life," Seamus cried, wiping away his tears. "I'm never going to have trouble conjuring a Patronus again!"

Aha! So we _were_ justified! Our actions meant that our friends would never be dinner for the Dementors. That was all the excuse I needed!

Emmett and Jasper laughed louder than anyone, they'd already seen the moving photos after we'd developed them, but that didn't lessen their amusement. Alice and I had taken them to the owlery earlier that morning. Whilst I had been distributing the pages amongst the owls, the vampire had waited outside, not wanting to frighten them. Luckily, Talto had been kind enough to keep her company. I was starting to worry about that bird; he was a little too fond nowadays of Alice, Rosalie and Esme. I had a hunch he was smitten. Typical.

In addition to sharing the works of art with the rest of the school, Harry, Ginny, Ron and I had also glued copies to the backs of our wardrobes with permanent sticking charms, securing our legacy for the future generations of Hogwarts.

I grinned at Alice. She smiled back at me, revealing two rows of brilliant teeth. Her countenance gradually changed, however, and she eventually gave a heavy sigh, before rolling her eyes. I threw her a questioning glance. She nodded her head in the direction of the head table, where her parents were sitting with their arms folded, both trying to look sufficiently cross; however, they couldn't seem to inject a suitable amount of sternness into their expressions to be convincing.

I pressed my lips into a hard line, realising that laughing wouldn't be such a good idea right now. To my right, Edward groaned, his head falling into his hands as he read his parents' thoughts. Even that was funny to me; it was such an adolescent response. My restraint broke and I burst into a fit of giggles, the sound seeming to bring Alice and her brother out of their sudden gloom.

I noticed Carlisle and his wife trying to hold back their smiles, but they couldn't seem to help themselves. I suppose they were just far too happy to see their children so having such a good time.

"Detention," Carlisle mouthed out silently, his glistening, white teeth flashing as he grinned.

Despite the promise of punishment, I was convinced that nothing this morning would be able to shake my mood.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know. Always love to hear from you guys. Giggle. xxx**


	14. Sentenced

**A/N: Finally, here it is! One quick note—I haven't had time to correct the errors in all my previous chapters yet, but I will definitely be doing that soon, so remember to ignore anything you get for **_**The Secret Keeper **_**and the sections I have written so far for this story.**

**Thank you all for your awesome reviews. You're all great. That is all. |D**

**BPOV**

Nothing was worth this. No prank in the world could compensate for this kind of punishment. I had to credit Carlisle and Esme—they knew exactly what to do to provoke the most regret on our part. Cleaning trophies or scrubbing bedpans hadn't been good enough for them. Oh no. They'd known that one vampire alone could complete those types of remedial tasks in a matter of minutes, due to the incredible speed they possessed; as a result, they had come up with something far worse.

Technically, only Alice and I were the perpetrators, but Carlisle and Esme suspected all their children of foul play; so when they decided that the best way to make us sorry was to separate us from our mates, they had also included Rosalie. For the next week, the three of us were only to see our partners in class and at mealtimes. The girls were luckier than me—they shared every lesson with their husbands. Unfortunately for them, however, Carlisle and Esme had informed the other teachers of our punishment, so the girls were unable to work alongside the boys. Still, they saw Jasper and Emmett more frequently than I did Edward.

When we were not together in the Great Hall or in lessons, Rosalie, Alice and I were forced to spend our time in Carlisle and Esme's office, under the watchful eye of vampire doctor and his lovely wife. It reminded me of my first months after returning to Forks, when the only time spent with Edward had been in the cafeteria and the biology classroom. As I had back then, I now filled our separation with hours of romanticising and desperate pining. It was rather pathetic.

What made it worse was Alice's boredom. When she had completed all her homework, the annoying, little pixie reverted back to her usual practices—attempting to turn me into a beauty queen. Her sister, having nothing better to do, decided to join in. Between them, they curled my hair, manicured my nails, forced me into the most ridiculous outfits, and applied make-up to my eyes and lips.

And the worst part was that Carlisle and Esme let them; even when I protested, the pair chuckled and told me that if it hadn't been for my irresponsible behaviour, they would have gladly interceded.

Whenever that happened, I gritted my teeth and told myself that it could be worse. At least our antics hadn't lost us too many house points. Had it been any other teacher issuing our punishment, I had no doubt that we would have forfeited between thirty and fifty points each. Fortunately, Esme strongly disliked upsetting her children, or anyone else for that matter. She had deducted two points each from the six of us. I'd had to hold back a smile when she'd informed us of that particular loss, though I can't say my amusement lasted long. Any time spent away from Edward was painful.

On the flipside, I got to hear all about Esme's first week as a teacher. Professor McGonagall's plan had worked better than anyone could have hoped for. According to the Head Mistress, Muggle Studies had never been more popular.

"What did you do in your first lesson?" I asked on Wednesday night.

The five of us had just returned from the Great Hall. Carlisle was immersed in a book on healing, whilst Alice, Rosalie, and me had positioned ourselves on the thick rug by the fire, our backs turned to the flames as we gazed up at Esme, gathered at her feet like three little girls.

"Well, I actually spent most of it discussing vampires," she admitted sheepishly. "The children were a little excited, so I thought it best to get the inevitable questions out of the way first thing."

"Is there a boy called Amicus taking your classes?" Rosalie enquired.

"Do you mean the boy who first spoke to us in the Great Hall before the battle?"

"Yes."

Esme nodded. "He's a lovely child. Very friendly and trusting. In fact, he was the first to speak in class, too. He asked me how quickly vampires can move."

"And you gave him a demonstration," Alice smiled. It wasn't a question.

If she had been human, I was sure that the motherly vampire would have been blushing. "I may have been showing off a little, but it seemed to make them happy; though I think the girls would have been more satisfied if Carlisle had been the one giving the performance."

She looked over her shoulder at her husband, smirking as she directed a teasing wink at him.

He arched one perfect eyebrow, grinning mischievously as he made his retort. "If that had been the case, I'm sure the boys would have been more than disappointed, Professor Cullen."

Rosalie wolf-whistled, causing her mother's countenance to become even more bashful.

"What are you teaching them now, then?" I queried in my attempts to spare Esme.

She threw me a brief, yet grateful smile, and said, "The third years are studying 'Muggle Artefacts' this term. We're starting off easy. I didn't realise just how little most witches and wizards know about the non-magical world. More than half of the third years had never heard of a telephone for goodness' sake!"

She shook her head, her expression incredulous, before she sighed and continued. "I'm spending the first couple of weeks instructing them on recreational based objects, like trampolines and bicycles. I'm going to set up a practical for next lesson so they can get some first hand experience."

"What will that include?"

"Well, there'll be a trampoline and a bike, as I've already mentioned. I might get some roller-skates, too, and maybe a soccer ball and some badminton rackets. I can split them into groups then, and allocate a specific amount of time for each activity."

"Bringing fun to the classroom," Alice nodded. "It's a good way to encourage learning."

"What about the older students?" asked Rosalie.

"The fourth years are studying man's exploitation of the earth. Electricity is briefly introduced at the end of third year, but they don't learn about it in depth until they enter their fourth. Our first topic is bio fuels and non-renewable energy. Then there are the fifth year O.W.L. students, who are learning about technology and communication. The sixth years are starting on health and medical practices. Carlisle will be lecturing these classes more than me. His schedule at St. Mungo's has been arranged to fit around the sixth year timetable, though he'll still occasionally be helping me with the other years, just so the girls don't feel as if they've been cheated."

She winked at us. I glanced over at Carlisle; his eyes never strayed away from the mammoth text in front of him, but his lips certainly twitched upwards at the corners.

"And the seventh years," Esme finished, "are studying government and international relations."

I smiled. Esme's expression conveyed just how much she was enjoying her new job. By the end of the year, she'd probably be thinking of the students as if they were her own children. She was that kind of person—maternal and passionate. Even if the pupils didn't warm to the subject itself, I doubted that many of the fifth years would give it up—not when they'd been blessed with such a wonderful, enchanting professor.

When I wasn't listening to Esme's tales of her experiences, being tortured by the girls, or fantasising about my reunion with Edward, I was busy working on my growing mountain of homework. I could hardly believe how much I'd received in such a short period of time! We hadn't even finished our first week and already I was falling behind.

Professor Fulplume's was the most difficult piece. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't come up with anything to write. Initially, I would have said that I knew myself fairly well, but I came up blank whenever I tried to put pen to paper. How could anyone understand their most basic instincts? Acting on them isn't exactly something people ever think about; they just do it naturally, which is kind of the point. Yet, now, I was being asked to actually consider it, and I had no idea where to start.

I briefly pondered the fact that the only type of person with the ability to help me charged around two hundred dollars per hour. Even if I had possessed that kind of money, however, there wasn't exactly an abundance of psychologists living in the immediate area. Having no other alternative, on Friday afternoon during my free period, I turned to the next best thing.

"Carlisle?"

He looked up from his text, concern flooding his expression as he examined my face.

"Yes, Bella?"

I vaguely registered the way I was gnawing on my lower lip as I nervously shuffled my feet.

"Bella, what's the matter? You look… troubled."

I blushed lightly, my eyes flying over his head to the giant tapestry. It was easier to discuss my predicament when I wasn't making eye contact. "I'm having a little trouble with my Transfiguration homework."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "But Transfiguration is your best subject."

"I know," I sighed, "but it's not the magic I'm having difficulty with; it's the theory." I closed my eyes in embarrassment. "We're learning about human to animal transformation, but in order to achieve it, Professor Fulplume says we have to understand our most basic instincts… and, well… I don't really feel like I know myself that well."

After another moment of humiliating blushing, I dared to meet Carlisle's eyes. At first, his expression was shocked, (though I couldn't determine why,) but then it morphed into one of understanding.

Rising from his chair, he placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me over to the comfortable sofas, where we both sat down beside one another.

"Although I'm sorry you're experiencing difficulties, Bella," he said gently, "I can't deny how happy I am to have you come to me for something like this. My children rarely seem to need the help most would ask of their parents, but I suppose that's only to be expected considering their age and experience. It's nice to feel like a real parent every now and then."

I felt the heat recede from my cheeks at his words. It was just too easy to think of him as a second father nowadays.

"And please don't feel embarrassed if there's ever something you need to discuss. You know that Esme and I are always here to offer our help if ever you should need it, regardless of the matter."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Obviously, Edward is the specialist when it comes to human psychology and behaviour, but, as you already know, I've been around long enough that I think I can safely say I've developed a decent awareness myself. Of course, I also know you well enough, I think, to be able to attest to the fact that you are not like most humans."

His eyes turned thoughtful then. "When you were young—before you discovered your abilities—what was your life like?"

That wasn't such a difficult question to answer. Everything had been fairly basic. I'd always been reserved, limiting myself normally to the company of the household—my mother. There were a few people I'd hung out with at school, but I would have called them acquaintances, rather than friends. I didn't spend much time with them out of school hours; those I'd reserved for taking care of my scatter-brained mother.

Carlisle's focus never deviated as I told him of my past. Every now and then, he would give the occasional nod, never seeming surprised by anything I revealed. I guessed that Edward had already filled him in a long time ago.

"Though, I'm fairly sure I know the answer, what is the most important thing in the world to you now?"

"Edward," I stated firmly. I paused for a moment, my eyes narrowing slightly, before I tagged on the end, "And, of course, all of you… my family. Edward and my family are the most important things to me."

Carlisle nodded again, smiling lightly as he considered my answer. "Now," he said, "think back on everything that has happened to you since you moved back to Forks—the incident with James; your visit to Volterra; the fight against Victoria and her army of newborns—everything. Think back, and tell me how you felt through those key experiences."

"Well, with James, I wanted to protect my mother, and… and I was also afraid for Edward and the rest of you. I didn't want any of you hurt."

"You risked your own life to protect the family," Carlisle nodded, urging me to continue.

"And, then, in Volterra, all I could think about was getting to Edward in time."

"And during your meeting with the Volturi?"

"Jane," I growled, unable to hold back the venom in my tone.

"Go on."

"She hurt him. At the time, I couldn't see past anything but his pain. Whenever I think about it now, though—when I think about what could happen if we were to meet her in the future, the only thing I feel is anger… No, that's not a strong enough word." My fists clenched as my thoughts filled with the image of her gloriously beautiful face, her lips spread into a wide smile as she gazed down at my writhing fiancé. "I. Feel. Hate."

Carlisle's expression was severe as he nodded in understanding.

"If I'd been strong enough, I would have ripped her limb from limb. I would have done everything I could to have prevented it from happening."

"And Victoria? You tried to convince us to change you before she could attack."

"Because I wanted to help," I explained. "I didn't want to always be the one that needed protecting. I wanted be strong so that I could defend _you _instead."

I sighed, shaking my head, my eyes tracing along the patterns sewn into the luxurious taffeta cushions. Finally, however, my focus returned to the vampire I sat beside. Carlisle's smile was brilliant, his eyes sparkling like sapphires, seeming proud as he looked at me.

I blinked in confusion.

"Don't you see, Bella?" he questioned after a few moments of silence. "Are you still blind to your greatest instinct? Surely you haven't forgotten that you played the Third Wife?"

The Quileute legend flashed through my mind. The Third Wife had plunged a dagger into her heart to distract a bloodthirsty vampire. I had done something similar, though it had been on a much smaller scale.

"Bella," Carlisle said, stroking my cheek gently, "your most basic instinct is, and has always been, to care for and protect. First, your mother, who you cared for in a way that a parent would for her child." He shook his head, amused by the peculiar role reversal. "When you arrived in Forks, you did the same for Charlie, ensuring that he was receiving the proper nourishment. Lastly, there is our family. Time and again you have demonstrated the desire to keep us safe, even when the danger was aimed at you.

"You orient yourself around Edward and family, and as far as I can tell, you would do anything in your power to defend us. That's the answer I think you're looking for."

His hand came to rest on my shoulder, his expression softening into one of fatherly affection.

I inhaled deeply, considering his words. It only took me a second to realise he was right. Seriously, why had I needed someone else to tell me what I'd known from the very beginning? It was obvious now. Of course my priority would be to protect Edward and my family—they were everything, the brightest stars in my universe. If they were to disappear, everything would fade to black and reason would vanish. It only seemed natural to want to do everything that would ensure their safety.

My eyes found Carlisle's, unsure how to properly convey my gratitude. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, but even with Charlie—my actual father—that had never been my style; so, instead, I opted for a heartfelt 'thank you'.

He gently ruffled my hair, giving a quick peck to my forehead, before he stood and returned to his desk, sinking back into study.

Thanks to his help, I'd completed the essay within the hour. Recalling the key incidents was only too easy. Jane and Victoria weren't two figures you could really ever forget; their faces and the emotions they'd triggered would permanently remain etched into my memory. I didn't need to be an immortal for that.

It was a relief when my classes finally came to an end for the day and I was able to meet the others in the Great Hall. Carlisle and Esme's eyes remained fixed on us throughout dinner, however, so we were unable to sit next to our partners. As usual, the table acted as the barrier separating us during our sentence. It was beginning to have the same significance as a Perspex window. The only things that were missing were the telephones and the orange jumpsuits.

The division was really taking its toll on the boys as well. Emmett was, surprisingly, the most visibly stressed out of all of us. I had come to think of the burly vampire as my perpetually jolly and laid back big brother; I could hardly believe what I was seeing, therefore, during the hour that we were together.

"Aren't you going to finish your dinner?" Jasper asked him, noting his full goblet.

"Do I look hungry to you?" he snapped, his blue eyes narrowing to slits.

"Obviously not, but—"

"And why the hell are we taking 'dinner'—" he made quotation signs in the air, his voice rising an octave, "—out of a god damn cup anyway? I don't need to be emasculated, thank you very much!"

His fist slammed against the table, subsequently turning a large chunk at the edge to sawdust. The witches and wizards around us fell silent for a moment, each of them looking on anxiously at the angry student.

When conversation resumed, Edward hissed at his brother. "Would you get it together. It's not like we can do anything about the situation."

"Why not? Why do we even have to take this crap?! What could they do to stop us?"

"They could take our points away," Alice said matter-of-factly. "And trust me, they will. Every time you consider defying them I get flashes of it. Do you think the rest of Gryffindor would thank us for that, Emmett?"

The vampire huffed, his body hunching as he leaned forwards to rest his head in his hands. He began sucking in large mouthfuls of air, as if recovering from a panic attack. I couldn't understand the peculiar behaviour. It wasn't like he'd never been separated from Rosalie before. We were on our third day of punishment, and I was fully aware that he had sometimes gone on equally long hunting trips with his brothers in the past. It simply made no sense.

I thought it over whilst I ate, but no answer came to mind. Part of my brain registered that I should have brushed it off and spent my time focusing on Edward, but the tension at the table was far too distracting. The air was so thick with it that you could have cut it with a knife. Even Alice, the most cool-headed of the bunch, looked like she was having extreme difficulty holding her place.

I pondered her expression as I reached for the fruit bowl, closing my fingers around a shiny, red apple and hesitating as I brought it to my mouth, too preoccupied with the puzzle to consider breaking through the crimson membrane. I absently brushed my lips back and forth over the skin, oblivious to the room around me.

It was Edward's expression that pulled me from my trance, impossible to overlook as it was. I gave a tiny gasp, blinking in confusion as I studied him more closely.

He was perched on the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the apple at my mouth. His expression, though certainly less severe, reminded me of the one he had worn the first time I had sat with him in biology. It was intense and penetrating—hungry, almost—his irises darkening a shade whilst his breathing accelerated with an undeniable excitement, one which I simply couldn't fathom.

I felt naked under his scrutiny. It didn't help that his eyes gradually began travelling downwards. For the longest time—what seemed like hours—I couldn't look away. My shock was too great, and I seriously began casting my mind back over the previous minutes, trying to pinpoint anything that would have provoked such powerful emotion. I came up blank, though, my thoughts blown into a whirlwind of pandemonium under his ravenous stare.

It was Jasper who released me from it. His fingers snatched at the collar of Edward's shirt, the movement so quick that I very nearly missed it, yanking his brother backwards off the bench, before repeating the process with Emmett on his other side.

"That. Is. It!" he growled. "I've had it with the pair of you! You're as bad as one another and it's driving me insane!" He towed them away like an angry guardian would a couple of misbehaving children, ignoring their protests as he forced the two in the direction of the professors.

I could do nothing but gawk as the Empath threw his brothers before Carlisle and Esme, speaking in exasperated whispers that I was sure would only be distinguishable to a vampire's ears.

"Please explain to me what just happened," I demanded, turning my head to the girls.

Unfortunately, they appeared to be just as mystified as I felt, their brows knitting together in confusion as they exchanged baffled glances.

"They're leaving," Alice said suddenly, her voice saturated with concern.

"Leaving?"

She nodded distractedly, unable to tear her eyes from her irritated husband. "They're going hunting. Jasper thinks they all need to take down some grizzlies."

"But why?" I asked. "They're never thirsty anymore! The dragon's blood sees to that."

It was true; their daily doses not only satisfied their thirst, it completely banished the venom for a time as well. Their eating schedule was now much closer to that of a human than it was to a vampire's. The only reason they had stuck to their fortnightly trips in the first place was that anything else would have been wasteful. Sure, they could have eaten smaller portions more frequently, but that would have meant that more animals would have died, and the majority of blood would have been left unused.

Hunting now made no sense. Their eyes were far from black, and as long as they stuck to their daily meals, there'd be no reason for them to ever have to leave the castle for such purposes.

"Well," Rosalie breathed, "I have no idea as to Edward's behaviour, but I could hazard a guess in regards to Emmett's."

I was about to press the issue, but the boys came walking back towards us before I got the chance. Although relief was visible on all of their faces, embarrassment was the most dominant on Edward's. He tried to smile upon reaching me, but it looked forced and shaky.

_What's going on? _I questioned mentally. I didn't even have to concentrate this time to open my mind to him.

He flinched in surprise, before shaking his head and sighing heavily. "We're all just … a little frustrated." I didn't miss the soft edge in his voice. Whatever it was that was going on, he didn't want me to know about it. "We need to… to release some aggression. Be vampires for a couple of hours."

"Days," Emmett corrected moodily.

"But… but you hunted just over a week ago. It's not like you've been forced into tameness for a long period of time."

Edward shook his head again, running his hands through his hair immediately afterwards. "It's difficult to explain, Bella. We just need to go let off some steam, and now is the perfect time to do it, what with it being the weekend."

_Did I do something wrong?_

"No! No, of course you didn't."

_Then what was that about just now?_

"It was nothing. I just—"

_Nothing?! You looked like you… like you were thinking about pouncing at me!_

He gave a single laugh, though I couldn't detect any trace of humour. It was closer to nervous, the musical sound coupled with a faint note of hysteria. Now I was really confused. I'd been expecting him to deny it.

"We just need to get out for a while," he repeated, stifling my questions with a kiss. He didn't seem to care that the eyes of almost every female in the room were on us, nor was he bothered that he was violating the rules set out by Carlisle and Esme. We glanced briefly in their direction after it ended. Carlisle's face told me that he'd allow this one defiance, which, in truth, was only to be expected considering his forgiving nature.

The others kissed their mates goodbye too, the displays of affection heartfelt despite their shortness. Finally, when the boys had finished conveying their tender gestures, they sped towards the doors, never looking back in their haste to escape the castle.

**EPOV**

We flew from the hall with all the speed we could muster, whizzing past the portraits on the Grand Staircase in our efforts to reach our parents' office. If it hadn't been for the fact that we were vampires, we would never have been granted permission to leave the school. Desperate times call for desperate measures, however, and I think the three of us could all safely say that we getting pretty desperate.

I wasn't sure who was in the worst state. I would have said me, but Emmett's thoughts were the loudest I'd ever heard them. I kept getting flashes of his imaginings, all of which were sickeningly graphic to the point where I wanted to claw my own eyes out—not that that would have done the least bit of good. And then, of course, paired with the visuals was the sound of his 'voice', so that even when I did my best to block him, all I could hear was Rosalie's name being repeated over and over like a stuck record.

Jasper's thoughts, though quieter, were equally explicit. There were some things that no brother should ever have to see. Obviously, the powers that be had decided that I needed to be punished. I'd probably been a tyrant in a past life—an evil despot responsible for mass suffering. I could see no other reason why I was being subjected to such horrific images.

I shuddered as we reached the office. Emmett was the first to step through the door. He immediately headed over to the grand fireplace, quickly extracting a handful of powder from the bag on the mantle. The flames turned green as they reacted with the dust, and my brother wasted no time as he stepped into the harmless flares.

"The Cullen Residence, Forks, Washington." He disappeared in a flash, sucked into the spinning vortex of the Floo Network.

Jasper and I followed on behind him, and it wasn't long before we were all running through the back door of the house, launching over the river and into the forest beyond. It felt good to be racing through the trees. The speed was invigorating, and after only a few minutes of it, I could feel a peacefulness seeping back into my system, the frustration eased, though I was far from cured.

We ran until we hit Mount Rainier, never stopping once to interrupt the soothing silence. Even when we separated to search for game, we didn't exchange words. We were all too focused on the hunt for that. I streaked through the trees like a bullet, my feet barely touching the floor as I ran.

Ten miles after leaving Jasper and Emmett, I caught the scent of my prey. The trail, which headed off to the north, was unmistakeably fresh, and I guessed that the animal—or mountain lion, to be more precise—could be no more than a few minutes away.

I was right.

I caught up with her only ninety seconds after detecting her sent. She was stalking through the shadows cast by the tall trees and the overhanging branches, her walk slightly sluggish, probably the effect of a recent meal.

Coming up behind her, I released a feral snarl, causing her to turn abruptly, bearing her enormous teeth in response to my arrival. She certainly didn't look happy to see me, for which I was glad. I was counting on an angry, vicious opponent, one that would put up a decent fight.

We streaked forwards in the same moment, flying towards one another like two excited lovers. Nails swiped at the fabric of my shirt—at the flesh beneath—but the sensation seemed so light and delicate that it could have been Bella laying beneath me. Could've been, had it not been for the bitter aroma tainting the crisp air. Thoughts of _her_ sent me over the edge. My teeth found the creature's neck, slicing through the jugular to release the bloody life-force. The vein throbbed against my lips, forcing the fluid faster and faster over my tongue as my prey panted and gurgled. Finally, after the excitement reached its peak, the pulse slowed and weakened, falling silent within the next minute.

For what seemed like hours, I couldn't bring myself to get up from the rocky earth. I simply laid there, looking up at the murky sky, listening to the soft whistle of the gentle breeze as it blew through the grass and rustled the leaves. I could hear the quiet humming hearts of the small animals lurking nearby, the ones I was terrifying with my mere presence. I should've been more considerate and left them in piece, but I wasn't in the mood to watch Emmett annihilate a bear. The poor creature would suffer more than the regular victim, because its tormenter had far more frustration than he normally did.

My brothers were away for two hours before they decided to come looking for me. I guess they'd prolonged their hunt, rather than finish it quickly; either way, we were all far more relaxed when we rejoined each other.

"You're usually a bit neater than this, bro," Emmett commented, taking in my ragged appearance.

I quickly did a once over, scanning my clothes, all of which were either covered in dirt or decorated with long tears. I sighed, a little disappointed with myself. They appeared to be in a similar state, however—a fact which I took comfort in.

"So," said Jasper, walking over to me. He grabbed the carcass and threw it to one side, settling down in its place. "What's going on with you?"

I laughed without humour, wishing that I actually knew the answer to his question. Emmett joined us on my other side.

"I can understand my own emotions, even Emmett's… but I'm having problems figuring yours out. One minute you're… in control of everything, and the next, I barely recognise you."

I bit my lip, too embarrassed to speak, which, of course, my brother sensed.

_We're not trying to make things difficult for you, Edward. As far as I can tell, we're all in the same boat. _

I sighed, knowing that he was right.

"It's… complicated," I admitted.

"We'll keep up," said Emmett. I could tell from his thoughts that he was trying to be understanding. Obviously he wasn't about to laugh at my situation, considering how seriously he was taking his own.

After inhaling one deep, calming breath, I simply came out with it. "I've been having dreams." They remained silent at m words, which I interpreted as a sign that they wanted me to continue. "In my dreams, there's always one recurring element."

_Bella, _Jasper thought, noting the obvious.

I nodded. "Whenever I meet her, she's always holding an apple."

Emmett tensed slightly at my words. _Bella was eating one at dinner. Was that the reason he lost it?_

"Yes," I murmured, answering his thoughts. "I already know what it means—the symbolism behind the offering—but I'm afraid of what will happen if I take it."

"Just so there's absolutely no confusion on this," Emmett clarified, "I'm right in saying that it's all about sex. Correct?"

"Right," I confirmed.

"It makes sense," Jasper mused beside me. "The apple is the ultimate symbol of temptation."

"Why now though? Your composure's never faltered in the last hundred years—in that department at least. So, what's changed?"

I shrugged. "What else is there to focus on now that we have the dragon's blood? I was fine before Bella came along; I didn't have anyone to have those kind of thoughts about, and up until this summer, I was always so busy trying not to kill her that everything else took a back seat. It was manageable."

_And now there are no distractions, _Jasper nodded, pursing his lips in thought.

"Well, it seems as though you only have one option, Edward," he said finally.

"No," I answered firmly, responding to his mind as opposed to his words. "If I give in, then what's to stop me from doing the same in the real world?"

"It's going to happen eventually," Emmett pointed out. "You already promised her."

"Not in a classroom, Em." I didn't need to be telepathic to know that Jasper would be rolling his eyes. Emmett conceded, acknowledging that it was hardly a place suitable for romance, not that that would have bothered him personally.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"Look, Edward," Jasper continued, "if it's already this bad after less than a week, there's no way you'll make it to the end of the year, never mind next summer. Maybe you should stop thinking of it as something that's going to destroy your self-control; instead, view it as something to put you on until your honeymoon."

"I hadn't really thought about it that way."

"I think Jazz is right. Unless you face this—this dream—you're going to end up in _this_ mess every time Bella her daily portions, and if this evening… or morning—" My brother cast his eyes up to the sky, uncertain as to which word worked best. "Well, anyway, if today was anything to go by, I'd say you'd be more likely to do something stupid as long as you keep up this plan to drive yourself insane."

"Maybe you're right," I sighed.

Although it was usually my brothers' practice to tease me to the best of their ability, and anyone else who gave them reason or ammunition, every now and then—when things were serious or the occasion called for it—they did their best to be helpful and sympathetic, for which I was extremely appreciative. For the first time in all my years of knowing them, the three of us were on exactly the same page—we all wanted the very thing that we knew we couldn't have, though in Emmett and Jasper's case, their sentence would finish way ahead of mine.

After another hour, we began our run back to Forks, getting caught in the rain a few miles from home. The idea of returning to Hogwarts in my current state wasn't particularly appealing. My hair, for one thing, was caked with mud, a result of the wrestling match I'd engaged in earlier with my brothers. If it hadn't been for the fact that we were all full to bursting point, we probably would have released the leftover emotions on unsuspecting mountain lions. Emmett and Jasper made good substitutes for my kicks and punches though.

It was fun.

I thought about what they'd said as I washed myself clean. It made sense to face the dream girl sooner rather than later now that I had the proper perspective—I'd already conceded that there was no way I'd be able to last much longer anyway.

So why bother?

It was after midnight when the three of us made it back to Carlisle and Esme's office. The only sound, save for Bella's heartbeat and the steady breathing of the five occupants, was the quiet crackling of the embers in the fireplace.

Our parents were sleeping in the chamber concealed behind the tapestry, but the girls were all conveniently laid out in the main area. Alice and Rosalie had taken to the couches, whilst Bella had conjured a bed for herself. The three of us knelt by our respective mates, the sight of their tranquil forms instilling a calm that no amount of hunting could ever achieve.

_She looks so peaceful_, Emmett thought, his face only inches from Rosalie's. His mind was overcome with wonder. I could understand: firstly, he had never had the pleasure of watching the love of his existence whilst she was sleeping; secondly, he was so accustomed to Rosalie's fiery, passionate nature that it was odd for him to see her wearing such a serene expression. He stroked her cheek gently, knowing that the action wouldn't halt the effects of the sleeping draught.

"Emmett," she whispered, causing my brother to freeze.

_She's dreaming about me._

I knew from Jasper's thoughts the joy that one little word had inspired.

"Now do you understand?" I whispered smugly.

Emmett nodded, though he was unable to tear his eyes from his slumbering wife.

Alice wriggled into Jasper's embrace.

_Nice smell, _she registered subconsciously.

"What's she dreaming about?" Jasper asked.

I turned my head to him, assuming the answer to be obvious. "About you."

_Elaborate, please._

"She's escaped the office," I smiled, "and is waiting for you in the diner where the two of you first met. She's wearing the spider-silk dress that came with the tent. She wants your reunion to be special."

_She's saving the dress for a diner?_

"For you," I corrected, before turning my attention back to Bella.

Her hair lay swept across the pillow, red, almost, as it caught the light. I wondered whether or not she would be dreaming of me tonight. It was times like this that I bitterly resented Occlumency; I would have given anything right then to have received a glimpse of her mind.

Behind me, Emmett lifted Rosalie's body so that he could slide onto the couch, his chest pressing against her back as he encased her in his arms. The furniture was sizeable enough that there was more than enough space for the two of them.

"What are you doing?" enquired Jasper.

"Making myself comfortable. What does it look like?"

"We can't stay here, Em—"

"I'm not leaving her!" he insisted in a whisper. "They can deduct a million points for all I care."

My blonde-haired brother sighed and reached for the bottle on the coffee table beside him, pouring out three equal servings. When the shot glasses were filled to the brim, he handed one to Emmett, and one to me, leaving the last for himself.

_Are you going to take our advice?_

"I'm not sure yet," I said, pulling off my shoes before sliding into bed. "You'll know in the morning, no doubt."

I gave one last look at Bella, marvelling at her beauty, and lifted the glass to my lips, swallowing the shot in one.

My vision clouded instantly, narrowing with every passing second, as if I were reversing down a long, shadowy tunnel. Finally, the last pin-prick of light vanished from view, plunging me into what seemed like an endless oblivion—an inescapable darkness that stretched on forever. And, then…

I opened my eyes.

And there she was—the same beautiful girl I had fallen asleep beside, staring at me with eyes so chocolaty that I feared they'd melt this close to the fire.

The fire.

It was still there—the same one from Carlisle and Esme's office. I had taken the potion, hadn't I? If I had, then why hadn't I fallen asleep? I checked back over my shoulder, surprised to find that we were the only ones in the room. Then, of course, I realised what was happening.

I turned my face back to Bella, who was smiling gently, her expression somehow managing to convey more love than I would have thought humanly possibly. Slowly but surely, she brought her hand up from her side, bringing with it the symbol that had plagued me for the past week.

It looked far less threatening now—now that it was partially bathed in the soft glow of the amber light, especially when combined with the tender expression the girl was wearing.

And all of a sudden, I was tired of fighting. Tired of resisting. Tired of my boundaries and the way I constantly strove to maintain them. Just this once, I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to be selfish and reckless and free of my prudent prison. In this place, even if it was just for a few hours, I could be exactly that.

Free.

I closed the distance without protest, my lips finding the crimson fruit, hesitating as I prepared to break the skin. My eyes found Bella. Her face was pressed into the pillow, concealing half of it from sight. There was something very innocent about the entire thing—a shyness in the way she gazed from the corner of her eye, her cheeks tinted pink as she held out the apple.

Her timidity was reassuring. The trait was more familiar than the confidence she had exuded during my previous visits. Perhaps it was no longer necessary for her to be that way now that I was so close to giving in—now that I was no longer determined to battle my subconscious desires.

Whatever the reason, I really didn't care. I took one last breath, and sunk my teeth through the soft and yielding flesh.

**BPOV**

It would have been a bit of an understatement to say that I was surprised when I opened my eyes to Edward's face. The disorientation experienced during those first few moments after waking initially made me think that I was still asleep. Why else would I be laying next to Edward? We'd been forbidden to spend time together, after all. It wasn't until I caught sight of his brothers that I began to put the pieces together.

They'd spent the evening in Washington, and must've returned sometime during the night. I suppose they'd found the opportunity to spend the night with us too irresistible after our separation. I wondered briefly what Carlisle and Esme's reaction would be. I didn't spend too much time deliberating that however, because I was too preoccupied with studying Edward.

Whatever he was dreaming about, it must have been good, because he wore a soft, yet happy, smile. The only thing separating him from me was a blanket. If it hadn't been for the differences in our body temperatures, he probably would have slid beneath it. I hastily threw it away, eager for the feel of his skin against mine. He felt especially cold after spending the night wrapped up in bed by the fire, but I refused to part with him.

I could only have been awake for five minutes when Carlisle and Esme pulled back the tapestry and came striding into the room. They froze almost instantly, stunned by the sight they were being presented with. Their eyes found mine, and I couldn't help but gnaw at my lip as I tried to withstand the weight of their gazes.

"For once, I have absolutely no idea how this happened."

"They were here when you woke up," Esme nodded. It wasn't a question. I think she was trying for a firm expression, but it didn't really work; instead, a huge smile spread across her face and she pressed herself closer to her husband.

"I think they've learnt their lesson, Carlisle," she said, her resolve thawing. "We should let the girls go back to Gryffindor today."

"They haven't even done half of their time," he pointed out.

"And yet they were still willing to risk incurring the anger and disappointment of their peers to be together. Doesn't that tell you how difficult they've found it?"

"I suppose you're right."

Relief swelled through my body, making me want to spring from the bed and launch myself at the vampire parents. Luckily, Edward's magnetism had somehow strengthened overnight, and I found it impossible to tear myself away.

After retrieving a few books and papers from the desk, Carlisle and Esme retreated back into their chamber, leaving me to enjoy my morning in peace.

The girls awoke ten minutes later, and were both just as shocked as I had been upon noticing their sleeping husbands. They were ecstatic when I told them we'd been granted parole, and would now be able to rejoin our house.

"Thank God for that!," Rosalie sang.

"Ditto," chirped Alice. "I can't wait until they wake up. Still, that won't be happening for another two hours, yet, so we may as well go have breakfast and get ready. They'll still be asleep when we get back."

After we had all groomed and dressed ourselves, we headed down to the Great Hall. The others seemed just as thrilled with our news as we were.

"That means the boys will be able to come down to the pitch, Bella," said Ginny. "Tryouts are next Friday at half past four."

"I was going to try to get us booked in for Saturday instead," Harry shrugged, "but the Slytherins bet us to it. Not that the extra time will give them an advantage. We have all the best talent."

"I'll second that," Ron grinned, before stuffing a piece of bacon into his mouth.

"That's alright," I laughed. "Friday is my birthday, so maybe I'll get lucky."

"When you make the team, luck will have had nothing to do with it." Hermione's ensuing grin was so confident and warm that I couldn't help but return it.

I finished my porridge quickly, too impatient for crooked smiles and the sound of _his _velvety voice to spend time lingering amongst the other humans. Rosalie and Alice seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because the beautiful blonde swung me up onto her back the second we exited the hall, before rocketing away beside her pixie-like sister.

Emmett was the first to wake. His size meant that the potion burned out more quickly than it did for the others. Only minutes after his eyes flickered open, he was bounding through the door with Rosalie, followed shortly after by Jasper and Alice.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Edward began to show signs that the effects of the sleeping draught were wearing off. He drew in a long, heavy breath, moaning quietly as he stretched his limbs. Carefully, I leaned in to kiss him, my lips gently moulding themselves around his. His reaction was slow at first—a product of the drowsiness, I assumed; when a few moments had passed, however, he became more receptive, until eventually he was responding passionately, taking me by surprise with his sudden burning kisses.

He purred, twisting our bodies so that he hovered over me, supporting his frame with one arm, whilst he hooked the other under my back, hitching me upwards as he pressed his lips to the hollow at the base of my neck.

When he was finished there, he traced a line with his nose down my chest, inhaling my scent, nudging at the fabric of my top as if doing so would make it disappear. I was enjoying myself far too much to question his unexpected enthusiasm. My hands copied his, sneaking under his shirt to stroke at his diamond-hard back.

I gasped as his fingers clamped around the back of my left thigh. His grip was firm, though not at all painful. It sent my heart racing in the best possible way, goosebumps erupting all over my skin as I threatened to come undone.

A loud, ripping sound, however, pulled me from rapture, my eyes searching instantly for the source of the noise. It took less than a second to locate it—you'd have to have been blind not to notice. I gawked as Edward threw the tattered remains of my shirt into the fire, certain beyond anything else that I had somehow been transported to a parallel dimension.

"Not to sound u-ungrateful," I finally managed, shivering with pleasure as he continued to make his trail down towards my navel, "but w-what exactly brought this on?"

All of a sudden, he froze, his body becoming as unmoving as stone. I counted seventeen seconds before he finally lifted his head to look at me. His expression was shocked, confused even, as if he had no idea what was going on.

"Bella?"

My brow furrowed with suspicion. "Who else?"

He was silent for a couple more seconds, closing his eyes as he began shaking his head. "No, I mean… this isn't still a dream?"

"Still?" I felt the first hint of a smile forming on my lips at his choice of words.

His eyes snapped open as he turned to look at the Armani funeral pyre, his face overcome with horror.

_He should be scared, _I thought. Alice would murder him after discovering what he'd done, though I doubted that that was what was bothering him.

"Edward… what exactly do you dream about at night?" My voice was amused and teasing in the same moment. I couldn't help but giggle as my mind filled with the numerous possibilities.

The sound seemed to relax my vampire boyfriend. He laughed once… and then he laughed again… and then he couldn't seem to stop himself, collapsing at my side, his head resting against my shoulder.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you dream about, silly?"

"You." He smiled widely, seeming pleased with himself. "Always you."

"Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"Yup."

I huffed loudly, irritated by his refusal to share, though my disappointment was short-lived. "It must have been one heck of a dream if you didn't realise you'd woken up."

"I was pretty… involved," he conceded, the crooked smile making its reappearance.

"How involved?"

He laughed again, before pulling the thick comforter over our heads, submerging us in deep shadows.

"I can't see," I whined playfully.

"_I_ can."

I felt his lips against mine, then, and suddenly I was the one who was 'involved', unable to concentrate on anything else but the feel of him. I hadn't even had half of my fill when he gently pushed me away and lifted back the covers.

"Carlisle and Esme would like their office back," he said, before I could protest.

"I don't have a shirt!"

He reacted instantly, taking off his own and handing it to me. "I'll borrow something from Carlisle."

I inhaled the delicious perfume as I fastened the buttons, getting the last one done just in time.

"I wondered when you'd wake up," Esme beamed, winking at her son.

He grinned and slid from the bed, thanking his father as he passed Edward a new button-down.

"Where are the others?" asked Carlisle curiously, folding the blankets and stacking them neatly.

Edward's expression turned thoughtful, before it was interrupted with a sudden yawn. I almost jumped a mile when he abruptly gave a deafening yell, his hands flying to his forehead as if suffering from a migraine.

"What's wrong?" Esme panicked, flying forwards like a missile.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

We stared at him in puzzlement, baffled by his bizarre behaviour.

"I just… figured out where Rose and Em are, that's all."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow questioningly, an indication that he wanted Edward to continue.

"They're in… the Room of Requirement. The good news is it still works. Obviously it can handle fiendfyre."

"What are they doing there?"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. Discomfort overrode his features. "Please don't make me spell it out," he pleaded finally. "I've already had about as much as I can take."

I could see the comprehension show on Carlisle and Esme's faces as they took in their son's words, as well as the subsequent emotions the awareness triggered. We exchanged awkward glances as the silence unfolded, none of us sure exactly how we should break it. Fortunately, the vampire doctor came to my rescue. Again.

He coughed lightly into his hand, before he told Edward and I that we should go and enjoy our weekend. We, of course, were only too happy to comply. After I'd gotten rid of the bed, we flew from the room, hands laced together as we made our way back to Gryffindor tower.

"What are you thinking?" I questioned, noting his pensive demeanour.

His smile was instantaneous. "I was just thinking that maybe all this is a product of karma."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… maybe this is punishment for all those times we teased you about your turbulent hormones. It feels like some massive cosmic joke—like the universe is conspiring against us to make us take the subject more seriously." His grin touched his eyes as he finished explaining his amusing reasoning.

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Not at all; actually, I think I've hit the nail on the head."

I laughed, glad that he had finally been returned to me.

We spent the afternoon on the Quidditch pitch. Edward made a great practicing buddy. He'd throw the quaffle at tremendous speed, whilst I raced after it, doing my best to catch it before it hit the ground. Ron, Harry and Ginny joined us later on, all of them eager to participate. I eyed Ron and Harry's Firebolts lustfully, having to exercise all my control to stop myself from drooling.

"I still can't believe you got those for free. Maybe I should become and international hero as well."

"Tell me about it," Ginny grumbled, mounting the Cleansweep 11 that she'd inherited from her brother.

Our practicing sessions continued over the course of the week. The other vampires, now that they were less temperamental, came to assist. I knew that they'd be there to watch on Friday, and the idea made me nervous. I didn't even want to think about how I'd feel if I actually made the team.

I was a bundle of nerves come Thursday night. I didn't fall to sleep until after midnight, and then, when I realised that it was my birthday, I couldn't think about anything other than the fact I was another year older than Edward. I was equally terrified by the prospect of gifts and celebrations, because I knew from experience that the Cullens were impossible to deter. I had no idea what the morning would bring, but whatever it was, it surely wouldn't be good… Right?

**EPOV**

The excitement was palpable on the morning of Bella's birthday. Alice was as meticulous as ever. She'd decorated the room with hundreds of twinkling fairy lights, as was her habit, along with dozens of gold hangings. Whenever anyone went to open the curtains, she did all but rip their heads off, claiming that too much light would ruin the effect.

The common room filled with students, and I knew that my brother could sense the confusion swirling through the air as they took in their surroundings. Alice filled them in, however, informing everyone that if they didn't sing 'Happy Birthday' when her 'almost-sister' came walking into the room, she'd drink their blood. They all knew that she would never seriously think about doing something so monstrous, of course, but that didn't prevent the hairs from standing on end along their arms, or their hearts from racing frantically. Only those we interacted with daily gave no evidence of nervousness.

"Ssh!" Alice called. "She's coming."

The second Bella came stumbling into view, the room launched into a chorus of song, much to her astonishment. Her face was worth a thousand words. Emmett had a hard time keeping it together. Every few seconds he threatened to burst into a roar of laughter, but he stuck it out until the end of the song. I, on the other hand, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, despite my awareness of Bella's discomfort. In all honesty, 'discomfort' didn't seem an accurate enough word to describe the way I guessed she'd be feeling; 'horrified' was probably closer to the truth.

"…Happy birthday, dear Bella. Happy birthday to you!"

Cheers erupted throughout the common room, and I knew from the way that the colour was seeping into her cheeks that her embarrassment was flaring. Still, I couldn't bring myself to regret the surprise. How could I not want to celebrate the day that the most perfect creature in existence had been brought into the world?

Bella did her best to smile, though it was so frail and small that I doubted she fooled anyone. The students rushed forwards to ruffle her hair and pat her on the back, causing her expression to contort into a grimace, one which became more defined every time her age was mentioned.

When the crowd finally dispersed, I made my approach, leaning in to kiss her. She seemed a little resentful at first, but whatever negative emotion she'd been harbouring, it quickly dissipated—temporarily, at least—and her fingers snaked into my hair, pulling away only to inhale deep breaths of air.

_Nice tactics, _thought Jasper, _but it won't hold forever._

He was right.

"I can't believe you did that," Bella growled as we entered the Great Hall. "How can someone so small and cute be so heartless?"

"That's Alice," I smiled, giving my bubbly sister a hi-five.

Bella scowled.

She violently picked apart her toast, obviously feeling that it was safer to take her anger out on something that couldn't feel pain… not that she would have had any luck if she'd tried to hurt those responsible for the morning's events. I knew perfectly well that she hated attention; it was for that reason that I, technically, should've predicted that she'd hate my gift. I had an extremely good feeling, however, that that wasn't going to be the case.

At precisely half-past eight, the owls came swooping into the hall, the majority of which were carrying brightly wrapped packages, all tied with colourful ribbons. One, in particular—a large rectangular box, just over a metre and a half in length—caught my eye. It was so big that it took three owls to carry it. Talto flew at the front, whilst two unfamiliar birds followed behind. Together, they delivered the box to the birthday girl, diving gracefully and landing before her. The strangers flew off almost immediately, escaping the hall in favour of the owlery, but Talto remained behind, nibbling on his owner's ear as he perched himself on her shoulder.

"Hello to you too," she laughed, stroking his breast with her forefinger. She then turned her attention to the presents laid out on the table, her expression slowly becoming increasingly sombre.

"Open mine first," Rosalie encouraged, pointing to a small, square-shaped box. It was wrapped in tyrian purple, and tied with silver trimming. "I think you'll like it."

My sister shot me a smile, which I returned. I got on with Rosalie nowadays far more than I ever had before. She had warmed to Bella in a way that I would have never thought possible—her dislike had been so strong in the earlier days that initially I'd thought it would never wane.

Bella tried to seem enthusiastic as she tore the paper from Rosalie's gift, but I knew her well enough to be able to see that she was suffering. Her distress morphed into curiosity as she lifted the peculiar item from its box.

It was a small metal sphere—roughly the size of a plum—and was plain enough that it could have passed for a paperweight.

Bella seemed to agree, because she smiled at my sister and said, "Thanks, Rose. I've been meaning to buy a new paperweight. I left my old one at home."

"It's not a paperweight, Bella," Rosalie smirked, pausing for dramatic effect. "It's a Newton Ball."

"A what?"

"A Newton Ball. You carry it around in your pocket. It's used to manipulate gravity… you know, in case you trip."

Bella's eyes bugged momentarily, before she cast them back down at the spherical object.

"Watch, I'll show you." Rosalie pulled Bella to her feet, immediately after which she gave her a firm push. Bella tumbled backwards, but just as she reached a forty-five degree angle, she was forced back into a standing position, as if she'd hit an invisible spring. "I figured it would give Emmett one less reason to make fun of you."

Her husband grumbled under his breath, but Bella's reaction was the total opposite. She truly did love Rosalie's present, and spent the next five minutes experimenting with the shiny ball. It wasn't just a way of compensating for balance; it also improved the gracefulness of humans by a drastic amount, giving them a walk closer to that of a vampire.

"I've never heard of them before," admitted Hermione, clearly impressed.

"I bought it at Uluru," my sister said proudly, shaking out her hair. "I don't know whether they sell them in the UK."

Bella seemed to develop more enthusiasm for unwrapping gifts after discovering the contents of her first one. Emmett had bought her a sneakoscope, justifying the purchase by proclaiming that no one in the world needed one more than Bella. I was inclined to agree with him.

Jasper had bought her tickets to an Arrows game, one which would be playing during Winter Break. She really seemed to like that.

Alice's gift was actually quite practical—for her, anyway.

"And now that you have the Newton Ball, you can't protest about the size of the heel."

"I dunno," Bella joked. "Usually you have a flag sitting on top of something this tall. These things belong in New York."

"They're only six inches, Bella. They're your Safety Shoes."

"I think you need to reconsider your vocabulary."

"What I mean to say," Alice continued, admiring the shoes as she slid them onto Bella's feet, "is that you'll always have something to wear on your feet for formal occasions. They change colour depending on your outfit."

The shoes, in terms of style, were similar to the 'death trap' Alice had forced Bella into for Prom. They were open-toed, with criss-cross silk ribbon ties. She'd even thought to buy a matching purse, and seemed thoroughly impressed with her own genius.

_Now even Bella won't be able to show up to a party in a mismatched outfit._

"Thanks, Alice," Bella said sincerely, pulling my sister into an embrace. "What would I do without you?"

"Get arrested for your terrible fashion sense?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, extending an arm to prod my sister in the side. She slapped my hand away, smiling as she watched Bella unwrapped my parents' presents.

Carlisle had gone for a golden, astronomical clock, which was roughly the size of a CD. Bella gaped when she saw it, obviously worrying over the cost. Nevertheless, she thanked my father without protesting, having already learnt that acceptance was the only way to satisfy the family.

Esme had selected a silver bracelet from one of the jewellery stores she'd found in Diagon Alley. The open bangle had two small lion heads meeting at the ends, one male, one female. Bella stroked along the patterned band, her eyes filling with tears as she noticed the inscription on the inside.

"It made me think of you and Edward," Esme whispered in her ear, coming up behind her.

"It's beautiful."

My mother beamed. "I'm glad you like it. The message will only appear for you. It holds the same enchantment as a snitch. No one else has touched it until now."

Bella was speechless. She tried to express her gratitude, but couldn't seem to find the words. Instead, she settled for repeating the same embrace that she'd had given to Alice.

"What does the message say?" I whispered, too low for human ears.

Esme smiled. _He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began._

I recognised the quote; it belonged to Tolstoy. Simple, yet fitting—definitely a good description, not only for the relationship I shared with Bella, but for the bracelet itself. I was glad that Esme had favoured the quote, rather than one belonging to Shakespeare or some other sonnet writer.

After Bella had slid the bangle onto her wrist, she turned her attention to the gifts offered by Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. They'd bought her an assortment of candies, ranging from Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans—which, in my opinion, sounded absolutely revolting—to Chocolate Frogs.

Finally, when all the other presents had been opened, she had no choice but to address the largest and last remaining gift on the table—mine. I knew she'd purposefully put off opening it, clearly terrified by its size.

"I should have known this one would be from you," she murmured in an unsteady voice.

"Don't worry," I smiled, "it's not a car."

She laughed at that, but her face quickly regained its seriousness. After taking a few deep breaths, she seemed to find her resolve, and began tearing away the dark blue wrapping, revealing the rectangular, leather casing beneath.

I'd had the container specially made in Diagon Alley, specifying that 'Bella' be embossed in one of the corners. She gently ran a finger over the gold lettering, her other hand unhooking the clasps that held the box shut. Then, after one last glance in my direction, she lifted the lid.

"Gah!"

Her response was instantaneous, her heart flying into double time, stumbling backwards like she'd been slapped across the face. She probably would have fallen, but the Newton Ball was still in her pocket.

"It's-it's a-it's a-a Ffff—a Ffff," she stuttered, eyes as large as golf balls as she frenziedly wagged her finger at my gift.

My smile was enormous as I watched her reaction, learning through my brother's thoughts that it was a product of both shock and outright joy.

She gave up trying to communicate in English, instead reverting to some primeval language conveyed through high-pitched squealing and excessive bouncing. Heads turned to look at us, but it didn't seem to deter the girl, which, of course, made it an even more bizarre thing to behold.

_When has Bella ever released such a girly scream? _Emmett wondered, half surprised, half amused.

_If she doesn't breathe soon, she's going to faint, _thought Alice.

None of us were prepared for what happened next. Bella, overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude, jumped onto the bench and thrust herself into the air, launching over the table and flying straight into my arms.

She covered every inch of my face with kisses, transferring the drops of moisture trailing down her cheeks from her face to mine. A chorus of laughter rang about our party as she continued, which, of course, I couldn't help but join in with.

I was fully aware of the fact that her happiness at present was sky-high, but it was nothing in comparison to my own. I'd been waiting so long to give her a gift—one that she would adore—but until the day we had visited Diagon Alley together, I hadn't been able to find anything that fit that criteria. Both me and my brother had known the second Bella had laid eyes on it that the Firebolt was destined for her. The desire had been written all over her face.

_Now there's lust if ever I knew it, _Jasper had thought. _I guess you just weren't looking at the right type of transportation, Edward._

And, naturally, he had been right.

"Is that really for me?" she asked, finally regaining her speech.

I nodded blissfully. "All for you."

She pulled away to go and inspect the broomstick. It was sat in the cushioned hollow which had been carved to fit its shape. The box's interior was, once again, made from silk—this time red.

Carefully, Bella lifted the Firebolt from its casing, handling it with reverence as she read the registration number.

"Now Gryffindor has three Firebolts!" Ron exclaimed.

"We haven't made the team yet," Bella reminded him.

He rolled his eyes as if this was a negligible point.

The beautiful girl turned her attention back to me then. "Can I test it?" she pleaded.

"You don't need to request permission, Bella. It's your broomstick. You can ride it whenever you like."

She squealed again, kissing me one last time before turning for the exit. Carlisle and Esme promised to look after the gifts until we next saw them, waving us off as we followed Bella from the hall. I was grinning like an idiot as I ran after her, thankful that we all had the first hour off. Bella, Ron, Harry, and Hermione would be out of class for the first two periods, but as long as I got to see the Firebolt make its flying debut, I'd be more than satisfied.

I looked over to my right as I ran, my smile growing wider at the vision that met my eyes: Bella, the most beautiful girl in the world—mahogany hair and dark, lengthy robes billowing out behind her, her broomstick clutched firmly in hand—was racing through the ancient school of Hogwarts in black, six inch heels, moving with the perfect and unerring grace of a vampire.

**A/N: Wooh! Finally finished. I never thought I'd get this one done. Twas hard. Hope you liked it. Let me know. =D**


	15. Warrior

** A/N: I'm sooooooo sorry! I know it took me ages to post this, but I do have a good reason. First of all, I spent most of Christmas visiting relatives. Secondly, my other commitments are my main priority at the moment. I have a University interview next week, and I really need to focus on that, since I'm competing against another hundred and twenty applicants for a course which only has thirty places. Can't wait until it's over and done with! **

** Now that I've said that, I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas, and that 2010 is a good one! Thanks for being so patient! I haven't forgotten you, and I assure you, I'm not giving up on this story until it's finished.**

** Enjoy! =D**

**EPOV**

My smile was huge. There were only two other people who could contend with me in that area—Jasper and Bella. Jasper, because he was picking up on the group's collective positivity, and Bella, because she was thrilled with her new acquirement.

"Bella," Alice called, stopping the girl just before she could dash out onto the pitch, "I think you should take the shoes off. I don't want you messing them up."

"Oh, right, of course."

"And lose the Newton Ball, otherwise it might drop out of your pocket whilst you're in the air."

Bella did as instructed, replacing the heeled sandals with the plain flats handed to her by my sister. She then passed the Newton Ball to Hermione, remembering her friend's earlier interest, before proceeding to dash out onto the grass, too giddy to do anything else.

The Firebolt hovered in midair as she released it from her grip, maintaining just the right height to be mounted. She swung her leg over the body, carefully arranging her robes to make herself more comfortable, and then… she took off, whizzing away at impossible speed.

_Damn! _Rosalie exclaimed mentally. _That thing accelerates faster than a Bugatti Veyron._

I don't know why my sister was so surprised; we'd already seen Firebolt capabilities during the Quidditch World Cup. Still, I suppose it was all easier to accept when it was a padded-up professional straddling the broomstick, rather than a fragile looking student weighing little more than a hundred and ten pounds.

_Relax, Edward, _smiled Jasper, sensing my sudden nervousness. _Bella's going to be fine. She's not going to get hurt._

I was grateful for my brother's calming influence, glad to be able to enjoy the sight of the zooming girl. She flew over the stands, increasing in altitude before flipping back on herself and rocketing down towards the ground. The moment she levelled out, she forced the broom in our direction, braking to a stop upon reaching us.

"That was awesome!" she squealed.

The proclamation was reassuring: it was a rare thing whenever my Bella used that particular adjective. She usually went for words like: fine, nice, good, or enjoyable. Clearly, she adored my gift.

"I'm glad you like it," I told her. "I'm even more relieved that you accepted it. I thought I'd have to spend hours convincing you to even ride it."

Ron snorted at that. _Mate, it's a Firebolt. Even Bella's not that mental._

I grinned, as did she, though her smile had mischievous edge to it, which I didn't fully understand until she next spoke.

"Wanna race?"

At her words, my body tensed. Was she being serious? Surely not. Firebolt or no Firebolt, she did remember that I was a vampire, didn't she? I couldn't detect any sign that she was joking, though. I wanted to laugh, but I held back.

"Where's the finishing line?"

Her smile widened. "First one to the lake wins."

"On your mark…" I leant forwards, my muscles coiling in preparation. "Get set… GO!"

Suddenly, _I _was flying—gliding so quickly that the air gave a faint whistle as it brushed over my skin and clothes. Unfortunately for Bella, the Firebolt needed ten seconds to reach its full speed, whereas I could achieve maximum velocity almost instantly. I had a good twenty metres on her to begin with. That all changed, of course, as I reached the end of the pitch. I couldn't just cut over the top like she did; I had to take the exit and follow the stadium until I was on the correct side. Bella's shortcut meant that she managed to gain the lead. She glanced over her shoulder as we passed the castle, her grin brief yet wicked. I smirked confidently back at her, and pushed my body forwards with increasing speed. There could only be a hundred metres left to go and we were neck and neck.

"Still think you can win?" I laughed loudly.

Her eyes narrowed at my question, but she refused to answer, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the handle tighter.

That was when I decided it was time to end it. I felt the power washing through my muscles as I surged ahead, surpassing the broom in speed and securing my victory. I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that Bella had considered, however briefly, that any creature, witch or otherwise, could defeat someone of my kind in a battle of this type.

My good humour abruptly turned to shock as something hooked onto the hood of my robes, and I knew from the warmth it radiated against my neck that it could only be one of Bella's hands. I glanced over my shoulder, only seconds from the finishing line, but I didn't have time to make a comment before my opponent made her final move. Using all the strength her human muscles could muster, she swung herself forth, propelled by the combined force of my pull and the Firebolt's thrust.

I was too stunned to react. Only a second had passed when I regained the ability to do so, but by then, Bella had passed out of my reach. I did everything in my power to close the gap, but it was no use. She shot over the embankment and out onto the lake, her shoes skimming the surface as she flew, sending a fountain of water shooting up on either side.

I stared ahead, watching Bella loop-the-loop, completely flabbergasted.

A roll of booming laughter from behind suddenly broke the air. I turned slowly to face Emmett and the others, unable to pull my expression together. Bella landed behind me, throwing her arms around my neck.

"I can't believe it, man. Mr Speedy Gonzales just got outstripped by a girl!"

"Look at his face," Jasper laughed. "What a picture!"

I saw my expression in their minds. It was somewhere between distant, heart-broken, and incredulous. I couldn't believe it. Emmett was right.

"I think … the main … point," Ron puffed, "is that a vampire … just got … outstripped by a witch."

The laughing stopped immediately, whilst horror visibly replaced humour on the faces of my siblings. Emmett looked sick, like he'd eaten something bad and was suffering the consequences. Meanwhile, the humans were chuckling amongst themselves, enjoying the outcome of the race.

"A rematch," my brother demanded suddenly. "Damn it, Edward, you have to set this right!"

Harry laughed at that. "Just face it. Bella beat you fair and square."

"I'd hardly call that fair," Alice huffed. She didn't like that 'Team Vampire' had lost anymore that the rest of us. "It's getting easier and easier to believe all the talk we've heard about Bella and her shameless methods."

I turned to face the witch in question just as she finished sticking her tongue out at my peeved sister. I tried to detect some sign of guilt when her eyes finally landed on me, but they held nothing beyond satisfaction and amusement. I shook my head and laughed.

"Alice is right. You're shameless."

Her smile was brilliant. "Only when it comes to sports."

"I can't say that I agree." My thoughts filled with the memory of the night she had agreed to marry me, lingering on the details of her attempt at seduction. Of course, those recollections led me to more recent ones—fresher images that had been conjured entirely by my own subconscious: shredded lace strewn across carpet … soft, naked flesh, flushed pink from exertion … fingernails pressing along my spine, enhancing pleasure, rather than inflicting pain, as they would have done against human skin … shallow gasps and sinful kisses … my name on her lips.

_Her lips, _a voice whispered inside my head_, trembling._

What a delicious image.

I tried to imagine it: the trembling. Everything trembling—trembling under the weight of love, neither of us able to withstand its intensity—like foundations in an earthquake. Everything coming undone … like shoelaces. Always trying to endure it all—to endure love—and failing, shaking like jelly, before the welcomed collapse.

How else could it end, after all? How could either of us withstand it? We were two insects, ensnared together in an inescapable web. We could only fight against its hold for so long before we inevitably gave in … Before we surrendered.

I already had.

A cough from Jasper pulled me from my reverie, just in time for me to acknowledge Bella's blush. Whilst part of my mind was reserved for enjoying the tempting vision she presented, another section of my brain was focused on my brother's contained laughter. My discomfort increased as he wagged his eyebrows at me.

_I knew you'd never last._

I frowned. That hadn't been such a difficult prediction. Not even someone of Herculean self-control would have been able to resist that level of temptation for long.

Impossible.

And now, after I had finally given in to the dream girl, I was fully aware that any chance of resisting her again was out of the question. No sane man would want to.

I remembered the first night I'd returned to her following my initial bite of the apple. To say I'd been impatient for sleep would have been a massive understatement, though my activities in the realms of subconsciousness made resisting the real thing all the more painful, especially when I knew it wouldn't take much persuasion to get what I wanted.

I felt so unlike myself. Not so long ago, the roles had been in reverse.

_Maybe I'm bewitched._

I glanced over at Bella, who was once again inspecting her Firebolt, and smiled.

_Yes. Definitely bewitched._

I shrugged off my musings and focused, once again, on enjoying the morning.

Despite her excitement, Bella was considerate enough to allow the rest of us an opportunity to ride the Firebolt. In truth, it was spectacular, far more exhilarating than driving fast cars, which was undoubtedly due to the fact that it wasn't limited to horizontal travel.

We took turns nose diving, seeing how close we could get to the ground before we had to pull up. No matter how quickly we flew, the broom always made it, swerving with ease, seeming to obey our thoughts, rather than the pressure we exerted on the handle.

"I'm going to have to buy one of those for myself," Emmett said later as we arrived at the ground-floor Divination classroom on the ground floor.

We'd left the others to enjoy the rest of their free time, yet already I was anticipating my reunion with Bella. I could hardly wait for tryouts. I was reluctant to pull out of Ginny and Hermione's minds, since their current location allowed me such a wonderful view, but Firenze's lectures were always far too interesting. I was thirsty for knowledge of the magical world—of Bella's world.

"Now," said Firenze, waving a hand at the starry ceiling. It had been transformed into a lifelike representation of the night-time heavens, but I already knew from my observations that the image wasn't one of the current sky. The planets weren't in the right places for this time of year. "What you see here is a picture of how the stars were arranged in the November of 1907. I'm sure you are all aware of the First World War, whether you take Muggle Studies or not."

The centaur was right: no matter how cut off the magical community was from the Muggle world, it would have been impossible for anyone to ignore the many thunderous explosions occurring during the attacks. I was sure that the wizards and witches of the time would have had no trouble defending their homes, but their eyes still would have been open to the destruction unfolding around them. Their grandchildren certainly seemed well-informed, regardless.

As I stretched out across the floor, enjoying the feeling of the cushioning grass beneath my body, I attempted to interpret the pattern above. Try as I might, however, my knowledge of planetary influence had been non-existent before my arrival at Hogwarts.

Firenze pointed to one of the brighter stars, which I recognised as Mars.

"As I have said before, Mars is the bringer of war. This was the night that it started burning brightly. That alone would have been enough to catch the attention of my people; what made it even more unsettling, however, was that this began during the transit of Mercury."

Lavender gasped dramatically, but I could tell by her thoughts that she had absolutely no idea what it all meant in relation to events on Earth.

"Can anyone guess at Mercury's significance?"

Alice confidently raised her hand, her eyes never straying from the celestial image.

"Yes, Miss Cullen?"

"Mercury represents the laws of communication and rationality. I imagine its position during transit would link to international relations, suggesting a period of political significance."

"Correct. Two points to Gryffindor."

"Nice," Jasper whispered, squeezing his wife's hand affectionately.

She threw him a smile in return. _I guess all that reading paid off._

"Does anyone here know enough about Muggle history to be able to explain the possible results of this phenomenon?"

I raised my hand, as did the rest of my siblings. This area was definitely one in which I could earn some points. Fortunately, I was given the chance.

"The Triple Entente was formed in 1907. It united the UK, France, and Russia against the Triple Alliance: Germany, Italy, and Austria-Hungary. The first decade of the twentieth-century gave birth to the arms race. Tensions were building on either side, thereby triggering further weaponry productions."

_Very good, Edward. _"Another two points to Gryffindor. As Mr and Miss Cullen have indicated," the centaur said, again addressing the class, "the positioning of Mercury and Mars marked the coming war triggered by the growing distrust occurring between the nations."

"Could you have predicted the severity of the war, though?" Emmett interrupted, truly enthralled with the current topic.

"Not initially," Firenze replied. He then pointed at another star to the left of Mars. "That is Pluto. I'm going to show you what happened after the transit. Watch closely."

Suddenly, the stars began to move, altering their positions to depict what must have been a quarter of a year's progress. Slowly but surely, Mars moved closer to Pluto, its colour gradually turning from yellow to red, until, finally, it was blocking the smaller star, burning fiercely, as if the two had actually collided to form a larger planet.

"What does Pluto govern?" Firenze requested, a slightly sombre note present in his voice.

Parvati shuddered. "Death."

"Precisely."

"But death is a given anyway in war," said Rosalie.

"True, but never before had the losses been so great. The two planets, here, appear to intersect. Had the war been on a smaller scale, I doubt that Pluto would have displayed anything of significance."

He stopped for a few seconds then, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered his last statement. "Perhaps I should rephrase. What I meant to say was: had Pluto failed to display any pattern of movement significant in relation to Mars, I doubt that the destruction would have reached the level that it did. It is us, after all, who are governed by the planets; we do not govern them."

We spent the rest of the lesson discussing the movement of the stars during the war. I'd always considered astrology and the likes to be little more than a bogus means of conning superstitious fools. In all honesty, I still believed that, but I could see now that there was at least some truth in it all: though the stars and planets did not dictate the trivial matters discussed in horoscopes, I could no longer deny their influence on larger matters and events.

"It's a good thing we don't actually have to sleep," Rosalie said as we made our way towards the Arithmancy classroom. "Maybe then we'll be able to get through all this work."

Firenze had set us a twenty inch essay, which was due in in a fortnight. The task was centred around a specific date, which we would all be required to research and discuss.

"We'll need to consult the astronomy records in the library first," said Alice.

"Not tonight, though," I insisted.

"Of course not. I don't plan on studying when it's Bella's birthday."

Though I was determined to absorb as much information as possible during my next class, one section of my mind was preoccupied with monitoring Bella.

Professor Fulplume had just started explaining the theory of human to animal transformation.

"Now that you have all established your most basic instincts, you must bring them to the forefront of your mind. You must achieve a state by which they overtake everything."

She swept her wand from left to right, causing the desks and chairs to press up against the walls on either side. She then turned her attention to the rolled up carpet in front of her desk. It unfurled across the length of the room, leaving easily enough space for each student.

The teacher indicated for her pupils to lie down, before she dimmed the lights and set a fire beneath the small cauldron sat on her desk. After a few seconds, amber smoke began creeping over edges, travelling upwards in wide spirals.

"First, relax. Close your eyes, clear your minds, and let down every defence. Become _still_."

I was not the only one who detected the apparent discomfort Fulplume's instructions caused Bella; the professor herself spotted it too, noticing the way in which she played nervously with her fingers and gnawed at her lower lip.

I shuffled to the edge of my seat.

_She looks distressed. I wonder why. _"Relax. Take deep slow breaths through your nose, and exhale through your mouth."

Professor Fulplume kept her focus on Bella, much to my gratitude, watching as the girl closed her eyes and began the breathing exercise.

I couldn't help myself. It was just too tempting. I focused my energies on locating Bella's 'voice', searching the area where I knew it should be. As usual, however, it was like hitting a brick wall, a shield impenetrable to all manner of attack. I immediately jumped back into Fulplume's mind, thankful that her focus hadn't drifted.

Bella's eyes snapped open, a crease appearing directly between them, before they narrowed to slits.

I repeated my attempts, unable to conceal my grin as Bella smirked.

"Miss Swan," said the teacher, "is there something the matter?"

"Um … no, Professor."

"Well, then, I suggest you close your eyes and begin the exercise."

Bella nodded, sighing in defeat as she lowered her lids, refusing to open them, even as I probed at her defences, though I could tell from her expression that it annoyed her. Suddenly, however, her facial muscles relaxed.

_Edward Cullen, you are in big, big trouble!_

I chuckled under my breath, provoking curious glances from my siblings.

_I mean it, _she promised. _This is completely unfair. How am I supposed to clear my mind when I'm worrying about you and what you might hear? Grr! If you're still listening, stop. I need to concentrate… though surely concentrating on thinking about nothing means you're thinking about something._

She continued to infuriate herself, too anxious with her current state to successfully sink into a state of mental calm. I knew I should've felt guilty about invading her thoughts, but I so rarely got to hear them that my fascination overrode everything else.

_This is ridiculous, _she reasoned. _How is it that an experienced Occlumens can't gain control of her mind? Why do we have to let down our defences anyway? What good will _that_ do me?_

She huffed lowly, before inhaling deeply through her nose, concentrating on the incense and its peculiar aroma. Its effects were almost immediate, and it wasn't long before Bella's mind finally reached a gentle tranquillity.

_Mmm … smells sweet ... yet piney._

Professor Fulplume interrupted the silence then, making sure to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible. "When you feel you've finally reached a peaceful state, I want you to concentrate on a strong memory, one where your instincts were at their strongest. You must not, however, allow yourself to be overcome by emotion, only instinct. Emotion is human. Instinct is animal. Focus on your instincts. With every fibre of your being, long to give in to them."

This was sure to be interesting.

Images erupted behind Bella's eyelids, regretful ones from a distant nightmare.

Jane.

"Edward," said Professor Vector, demanding my attention, "is there any particular reason why you seem intent on crushing the furniture?"

Her expression, though puzzled, was also slightly entertained. I looked down to where my fingers gripped the side of my desk. The wood was crumbling away under the pressure of my clutch, a large piece breaking off entirely as I withdrew my hand.

"Sorry, Miss … I didn't realise."

"And here I was thinking that you vampires were supposed to be sharp." She tutted, repairing the desk with a simple flick of her wand.

_I used to be._

After the woman had resumed her lecture on Calendrical Fortune, I returned my attention to Bella, though I reserved half of it for following Vector's discussion.

The memory was difficult to withstand. Part of me wanted to recoil—to withdraw from the recollections of the time when I had stupidly placed Bella in life-threatening danger, but I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to enjoy the benefits of no Occlumency.

The young vampire's smile provoked a powerful anger in Bella, an anger which surely would keep her from achieving her goal. She inhaled another lungful of perfumed air, and the image shifted once more, replacing it instead with my crumpled, tortured expression, as I kneeled on the floor of that horrid, deathly chamber.

I sat frozen as her rage transformed into horror, as if she were actually viewing the spectacle again.

_STOP! STOP IT; YOU'RE HURTING HIM! EDWARD!_

I didn't understand. Why was she suddenly so frightened? The terror was there. It was clear in her 'voice'—in the bloodcurdling scream that she held behind her lips, and I could tell from her thoughts that she was losing sight of what was and wasn't real. It was almost like she'd been pulled into some kind of trance, detached from reality by vivid colours and hypnotic sounds, ones that did not belong in the Transfiguration classroom.

Suddenly, a splodge of red formed behind her eyes, the same kind a human attains after glaring at a bright light for an extended period of time. It started out the size of a pinprick, but gradually grew, twisting and pulsing to the rhythm of her heart, which was strong in her ears, abruptly increasing its pace. The scarlet splodge developed with each beat, feeding off it like an embryo, gradually gaining shape until, finally, its form became fixed… defined… unmistakeable…

Lioness.

My breath caught as the hammering quickened, animating the creature, filling it with an energy so powerful that it longed for an outlet.

All of a sudden, a violent, primitive sound crashed against the girl's eardrums, startling her from her abstraction. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped aloud, shocked by the sight that met her. Somehow, she had managed to draw the attention of every witch and wizard in the room. Those who had initially been laid out nearby had slyly shuffled away, seeming too shaken and afraid to remain close to her. Their cowardice irritated me. Only Harry, Ron, and Hermione had held their place, though they all wore expressions equal in shock to those of their classmates.

The thoughts of the students had been cast into pandemonium, becoming far too loud to ignore.

_How the hell did she do that?! _wondered Justin Finch-Fletchley.

_It had to be a joke, _Padma told herself. _It had to be!_

Hermione's thoughts were just as sceptical. _Surely not … not after just half an hour's practice. It can take years to achieve Animagus status! To see even the first sign of progress would need months!_

"What are they all staring at?" Bella whispered to Ron.

He gaped at her incredulously, unable to respond.

Harry had to answer on his behalf. "Bella, you … you were … growling."

"Growling?" _That was me?!_

Ron nodded. "Only … it sounded more like a tiger, or a lion."

When it finally became clear to the others that she was not about to transform into some kind of terrifying predator, they seemed to relax, but it was far too easy to see that they were all still completely unnerved.

"Miss Swan," said Professor Fulplume, "would you mind accompanying me outside, please? The rest of you may resume the exercise."

Bella followed the golden haired woman out into the corridor, curious as to her intent. At the same time, she was itching to rebuild her mental defences.

The teacher regarded Bella carefully, her eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, however, she exhaled heavily and addressed her student.

"Bella, have you practiced this kind of magic before?"

"No … Why?"

_Because what you just did takes most wizards half a year. _"Well, it's just that … you were very near to undergoing the transformation. It should have taken you months to get to the stage you just reached, yet you did it in less than an hour. Are you sure you've never practiced these kind of exercises?"

At first, Bella was too stunned to reply; eventually, however, she managed to regain her ability to speak. "I … I've never tried to transform myself into an animal before, but I do have practice in exercising my mind. I'm an Occlumens."

The professor's eyebrows rose half way up her head, surprised by the divulgence. "Really?"

"Yes, I learnt a couple of years ago. It took me nine months to get right. Do you think that could have contributed?"

"I suppose it's possible. Exercising the mind in one discipline makes it easier to perform well in others. It's like being able to throw further after lifting weights. Still … that wouldn't enable you to advance to this level so quickly—a few more moments of meditation and …"

She shook her head confusedly, before gnawing at her lower lip, her eyes never straying from Bella. Finally, she spoke, careful in her efforts to avoid offending her pupil.

"I know this is a rather personal question—feel free to tell me to mind my own business if it makes you feel uncomfortable in any way—but, may I ask … what memory did you concentrate on during the exercise?"

Bella ran a hand through her hair, reluctant to share her experience with the professor; her eagerness to develop her skills, however, overruled everything else.

_I don't have to tell her the details, _she decided. _I only need to give her a vague idea. _"Earlier this year, I met a rather fearsome vampire whilst travelling with Edward and Alice." I smiled grimly at her use of the term 'travelling'. If only it had been the sight-seeing adventure Philomela was currently envisioning. "She had the ability to inflict pain on her victims, as if she were using the Cruciatus Curse. Her powers were ineffective against me, because I'm an Occlumens, but they worked on Edward.

"I had to watch her torture him, and the whole time I was wishing that I'd had the strength to stop it from happening. You'd be surprised how many times I've wished for that—to be stronger … to be able to protect my family—but I suppose that's just what happens when you're constantly placing your loved ones in danger."

_With any luck, maybe I'll learn how to morph into a dragon. That would be an exceptionally useful skill for someone like me._

I smiled.

"Esme and Carlisle told me about your unfortunate meeting with the newborns," the professor admitted, provoking another surge of surprise. "And by the sounds of it, you've had even more to deal with. Maybe that's why you're finding this so easy. Those kind of experience would sharpen anyone's instincts."

Bella blushed lightly, her cheeks tinting a delicious shade of pink.

_Hopefully, some good will have come of it, then._

"What do you think I should do?" she asked.

The teacher shrugged. "Continue to practice. The only thing that seems to be holding you back is your subconscious hesitance to let go of humanity, hence the reason why you recoiled from your own growl."

"Are you sure that wasn't just shock?"

"I doubt it. Everyone has difficulty in that area. Whether you can find your inner creature immediately or not doesn't erase the fact that being human is all you've ever known. Letting go of that for the first time isn't easy for anyone. Having said that, with a little practice, I see no reason why we shouldn't be registering you as an Animagus in the next few months."

_Or weeks, _Philomela added, excited by the prospect.

A sudden warmth swept through my body as I witnessed Bella's reaction, erasing the chill that the unfortunate memories had brought. She was overjoyed with her teacher's confident prediction.

"And you're sure it wasn't just a fluke?"

"I'm sure," the woman laughed. "No one flukes that well. You might want to use some Copal when you practice though. It's useful for learning. A trance-like state is generally the best way to explore your buried instincts. Definitely a helpful tool for speeding up the process."

"Copal … is that what you were burning?" Bella queried.

Professor Fulplume nodded. "The resin is in a box on my desk. Take some when you leave, find a quiet place to practice later on, and try to redo what you did in this session, only, next time, don't shrink back; instead, just allow it all to happen. Alright?"

"Alright," Bella agreed, ready to follow the Transfiguration teacher back into the hazy classroom. "Oh, one second, Professor. There's something else I wanted to ask … You said we had to lower all our defences. Does that include Occlumency?"

Philomela smiled lightly, evidently amused.

"It's just that, well, it actually makes me really uncomfortable. I've been doing it for so long."

"Yes, that's quite understandable; but, unfortunately, Miss Swan, it's just something you're going to have to get used to if you want to be successful in this area."

Excellent.

"In order to make the transition, you must let go of anything tying you to your humanity, whether it be magical or non-magical. Do you think animals are concerned about protecting their minds?" she asked rhetorically. "The only thing they really care about is preserving their bodies. Survival of the fittest and all that."

Bella sighed, but nodded in surrender.

"Why does it make you so anxious anyway? It's not as if your mind is in danger in this place. Who would hurt you?"

"No one," the beautiful witch responded, a smirk creeping its way onto her face, "but, that doesn't erase the fact that a certain someone is probably listening in on me."

_Ah. _"Your fiancé."

My mood soared. I really liked that.

"Yes."

"Indeed, I can see how that would make things awkward."

"Only for me," said Bella. "He loves getting inside my head."

The professor laughed once. "Well, if you're planning on becoming an Animagus, you're just going to have to put up with it for a while. You don't really have much of a choice I'm afraid."

_I thought she'd say_ _that, _my _fiancée _grumbled, following her teacher back into the noisy classroom, where the other students were still busying themselves with discussing the unexpected display. They quietened under the disproving gaze of Professor Fulplume, quickly sinking back into their meditations.

Although Bella joined them, she couldn't seem to settle back into the exercise. She was too concerned for her intimidated classmates, reluctant to re-enter the trance in case another feral roar forced its way through her lips.

_I should wait until later, _she told herself. _Maybe I could go to the Room of Requirement tomorrow and try it then. I'd rather spend time with Edward, though. Maybe he could come with me. On second thought, that would probably make it more tempting for him to listen. I wonder if he's still doing it… Edward?_

I smiled. Was she expecting an answer?

This occurred to her the second after she'd said my name. After a moment of embarrassment, she continued. _What I wouldn't give to be able to read people's minds; then, maybe, we'd be able to talk to each other when we're not together. That would be so convenient._

She'd been pondering that for a few extra minutes, wondering whether or not there was anyway for a witch or wizard to learn my skill, when she suddenly had an idea.

_I've had a brainwave! I think I've figured out a way we can communicate! Edward, if you're listening, I'm going to ask you a question, and then rebuild my defences. Prod once for yes, or twice for no … I hope this works._

_Edward, are you there?_

She quickly got to work on closing her mind, achieving her goal within mere seconds.

The instant she disappeared off my radar, I concentrated on the spot I knew she should be, and asserted the pressure of my ability, maintaining my efforts until her mind reopened.

_That's a yes, _she exulted. _Maybe this can work! Alright, let's test no… Are you secretly a duck?_

I laughed into my robes, the force of my amusement causing the desk to shake. Once again, Bella's thoughts disappeared, and once again—simply because I liked to tease her—I prodded once.

_Very funny._

I'd thought so. When had I become so immature?

_Alright, are you in love with Pansy Parkinson?_

This time, after the blank spot appeared, I prodded once, like before, and then withdrew, before reattempting my invasion.

_A no! That's great! Well, you know—great that this is working. Hmm … maybe I should learn Morse code. Do you know it?_

One prod.

_How do you say S.O.S.?_

Three short prods, three long ones, and another three short ones.

_Interesting. Are you enjoying your day so far?_

If only she knew. I told her yes.

_And how about the others? Are they finding it interesting too?_

_Yes._

_I don't suppose you were listening about fifteen minutes ago? When we were all slipping into trances?_

_Yes._

_I've been trying to figure out what happened, but it's all a bit hazy, like a dream. It felt as if my mind was disconnected from my body. I remember the colours a little. And there was … there was a shape … but it's still unclear. Did you see it?_

_Yes._

…

_You know the form I'm going to take._

It wasn't a question.

_Yes._

I waited impatiently for her to let me back in, wondering all the while what she could possibly be thinking. Finally, however, her mind reopened.

_It's the same as my Patronus, isn't it?_

…

_Yes._

Though Bella allowed me back inside after that, she did not ask me any further questions, for she was too distracted by ponderings of the recent revelation. I could understand. It wasn't the easiest thing to accept: that my soft and gentle Bella would one day transform into a strong and deadly predator—one that would need no venom to be formed.

Eventually, her wonderings drifted into serene daydreams, ones of the two of us together, lying side by side in our fragrant meadow, gazing up at clear, blue skies.

I was almost invisible to the humans as I flew to meet her at the end of class. There was something irresistible to me about Bella's mind. Listening to it only fuelled the love I had for her. She seemed to be thinking along the same wavelength, springing into my embrace the second she caught sight of me.

I leaned down to whisper in her ear, pleased that her heart still responded to me in the same way it had during those first few months in Forks.

"Well, that was interesting."

"Which part?"

Her breathing became rapid and shallow as I skimmed her neck with the tip of my nose, and I had to remind her to inhale properly.

"All of it. The part where you terrified the entire class was especially fascinating. I liked your roar. That was impressive."

My comment triggered a delicious pooling of blood in her cheeks, and she quickly changed the subject.

"And our ... exchange?"

I chuckled. "At every school I attended, I always saw it happening—people passing notes, absorbed in the highschool drama dominating their lives. I used to think them childish. Maybe it was, but I think I understand it all a little better now.

"There's definitely something exciting about doing things you shouldn't. That's what it reminded me off. Passing notes."

_You know, Edward, _Bella responded, _you're sounding less like a century year-old man with every day that passes._

"Old man?" I smirked, cocking an eyebrow.

Her lips pressed into a hard line as she tried to suppress a round of laughter. Once her expression had relaxed, however, she became more serious.

_You seem more like … like a teenager. You always had to work so hard in Forks, but here … the act is gone. You just … fit. You belong here. With us._

I was suddenly overwhelmed by a fresh wave of gratitude, not only for Bella's kind words, but because she had given me all of it. She was right: never had I found a place before where I could be myself like I could be at Hogwarts. It didn't seem to matter that I was a vampire. Here, amongst the many witches and wizards, at least where my family and I were concerned, that word was just a noun.

I pulled Bella against my chest, and wrapped my arms firmly around her.

"I belong with you."

I was surprised by the conviction my voice held. I loved Bella with every particle of my being, but never before had I been able to accept that truth. The constant presence of venom had made it impossible. How could you belong with someone when part of you constantly wanted to kill them? And, of course, I had always dreaded Bella's desire to become like me, especially when that meant that she, too, would forever feel the fiery burn of her own potent poison. Now, I knew that that didn't have to be the case. That alone made it far easier to believe the words. The additional plus was that, as a vegetarian vampire, Bella wouldn't have to ostracise herself from the society she had come to love. She would be able to remain a part of it, never having to give up her friends….

And, then, I remembered the most important thing the transformation would rob her of—the very thing my sister so desperately wanted. Doubt overtook the joy, guilt overtook the doubt, and, finally, I was battling a terrible sadness. That, however, wasn't something I wanted Bella to see, especially not on her birthday, so I swiftly pushed my depressing thoughts aside, determined to make the event a happy one.

We practiced our new form of communication at dinner. Jasper eyed me suspiciously the entire time, confused whenever Bella's interesting thoughts and questions threatened to shatter my mask. My brothers and sisters were oblivious to the silent conversation. Even Alice, my usual partner for similar interactions, did not pick up on the exchange.

_A lioness Animagus, _Bella mused. _I kind of like it._

I cocked an eyebrow.

Her lips twitched at the corners. _Apparently, vegetarian vampires enjoy chasing lions._

Something deep inside me started burning. I couldn't tell what fuelled it: Bella's sudden flirtatiousness, or the desire for the hunt. I was a vampire, after all. The hunt was irresistible to every single one of my kind. All our cravings were tied to it. It defined us, forming our most basic and underlying impulses. I couldn't imagine, therefore, anything that would yield a greater rush than that which would come from pursuing Bella. I'd never risk it of course, even if I did have dragon's blood to take advantage of nowadays; still, the idea was difficult to resist.

One very forceful prod.

We both grinned. For some reason I couldn't guess at though, hers faded almost instantly. I reached under the table to intertwine our fingers, squeezing gently at her hand. She smiled again, but it was too sad to placate me. She sighed as I tried to wriggle my way in—to find a crack to slip through.

_I just wish … I just wish we had more time to spend alone. I love that we're here together, but I miss having you to myself._

Now it was my turn to sigh. She was right, of course. It was the only disadvantage of living at Hogwarts, though a big enough problem that it bothered the rest of my family.

I made a snap decision, rising to my feet in one fluid motion.

Hermione jumped at the swift movement. "Edward?"

"It's nothing," I said, eyeing Bella's empty plate. "There's just something I want to do." I bid my friends and siblings farewell, whilst simultaneously applying pressure to Bella's shield, knowing she'd understand.

"I'll come with you."

I could feel the eyes of my family on us as we walked from the room, provoked into suspicion by our strange behaviour.

"They just want some time together," Alice told them quietly after her vision had passed.

My next and final class wasn't until three o'clock, but Bella only had until two, and then she would have to depart for Charms, which would precede her Defence lesson. We had only another hour, therefore, to enjoy our time alone. Still, after weeks of no privacy, I'd take what I could get.

"What exactly did you ask it for?" Bella chuckled, eyeing the colossal four-poster at the centre of the room.

Apparently, the Room of Requirement was a bit of an insinuator; either that, or it possessed a cruel sense of humour. The bed itself hadn't been enough. It had also felt the need to litter the furniture with red rose petals, which cast a shocking contrast against the chalky fabric. In the far right hand corner, an enormous, silver harp was playing itself, strumming a slow and gentle melody.

I frowned at the bed as I replied. "I only told it we needed a place to be alone together. It came up with _that _on its own."

Bella laughed lightly, pulling me towards it so we could lie down.

"It's like a furnace in here,"she stated, shuffling closer to me.

I glared at the burning fire. _I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work._

Bella's hands snaked into my robes, her fingers fanning across my chest as she searched for something cool to counteract the heat.

I could practically hear the room laughing at me.

_Oh, never mind, _I wanted to tell myself. _It doesn't matter that your shirt's somehow managed to end up on the floor, Edward. It doesn't matter that you can't seem to keep your hands to yourself. This is fine. All fine._

As the hour drew on, Bella's anxieties regarding her exposed mind seemed to vanish entirely. I think she was beginning to realise that I became much more compliant when I had to battle our combined desires.

Despite the proximity of my icy torso, tiny beads of perspiration began forming on the back of her neck. When I began removing her shirt, I told myself I was only doing it to make her more comfortable.

_Yeah, right, _the room practically snorted.

I growled, though at what I wasn't entirely sure. Maybe it was in response to the room, which seemed to be in cahoots with the devil on my shoulder; or maybe it was a reaction to the irresistible workings of Bella's fingertips as they played along my spine, just as they had in my dreams. Whatever the reason, the sound only seemed to incite her further. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and pressed her mouth to my neck.

It was heaven and it was hell—heaven because I had never felt anything so incredible in my entire existence, and hell, because I wanted to take it further, though I knew that I shouldn't. I wanted to peel away the offensive white silk concealing her chest, but there were still a few shreds of self-control fighting to keep me in check.

Rosalie and Alice had been right about one thing: reveal enough, conceal the rest, and you had the perfect recipe for sending a man insane.

Initially, I hadn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment when the madness had been conceived, but the memory of my sisters' conspiring put it fresh in my mind. Everything had been put in motion the second I'd first seen Bella walking into the water.

In _that_ suit.

Maddening.

"I like it here," she said breathlessly.

"Mm," was my only response. I was far too busy planting kisses on her left hipbone, pushing my boundaries once again.

"Maybe we could sneak back one night." _We wouldn't get caught, not when we have your radar._

"Tempting," I answered roughly, edging my way back upwards.

When my face was hovering over hers, I leaned in to kiss her. She closed her eyes in anticipation, inhaling my scent. I smiled and nudged her nose with my own, pulling back slightly when she tried to catch my lips. A small sound of complaint escaped her, growing louder as I persisted in my teasing antics.

I smiled again, but, this time, complied with her wishes.

_Well? _she asked, unwilling to break the kiss.

"Well what?" I murmured against her.

_Can we come back here later, when we have more time?_

I pushed once, enjoying the idea more than I should. In the next second, however, my more noble side began to argue.

_Imagine what could happen! _it protested. _You're hanging by a thread as it is._

_Go away, _I told it.

_Doesn't Bella deserve better than this—better than a bunk up in a school?_

I pushed once more, and she broke the kiss as a result.

"Why not?"

I sighed heavily. "Bella, I only have so much self-control. Any more of this and I'll lose it completely."

"That's kind of the point," she grumbled.

Rolling to the left, I positioned myself alongside her, resting my weight on my elbows. "I was under the impression that you wanted to wait."

She blushed under my gaze, and nervously ran a hand through her hair. "It's getting harder," she admitted finally.

_Don't I know it._

I was just about to answer her when the clock chimed quarter-to, officially announcing the end of our time together. Sighing, I reapplied my shirt and robes, before sitting back down on the bed, waiting for Bella to do the same.

I watched her the entire time, my eyes tracing along the ridge of her spine as she bent for her clothes, and then up her torso as she turned to face me.

"Sooner or later," I told her, my eyes lingering on the still-exposed skin, "you're going to drive me wild."

She smiled and shook her head. "I think you'll find that's my line."

She threaded her fingers through mine, then, and together we left the Room of Requirement. I walked her to Professor Flitwick's classroom, before retreating back to the common room, where the others were busy with their homework.

I didn't try to force entry into Bella's mind again. Though I loved those occasional opportunities when I was granted access, it really did make things all the more difficult.

Her renewed mental silence meant that by the time our classes ended—in my case Ancient Runes, and in her's, Defence Against the Dark Arts—the only thing on my mind was the imminent Quidditch trial.

After rendezvousing back in Gryffindor tower, we all walked down to the pitch together. It wasn't just the usual crowd; almost everyone in the house was attending, either to cheer on their friends or because they wanted to make the team.

Emmett tried to quiz Bella on her game plan, but he failed to extract anything of interest. The change she seemed to undergo in the minutes before she was due to fly off was staggering. Usually, she had a very friendly air about her—a very genial attitude making her easily approachable; now, however, that had been buried beneath an expressionless mask.

Only her eyes hinted at the concealed determination. They were hard like stones, narrowing by an almost undetectable amount as they roamed over the people filing out onto the turf.

_She's assessing the competition, _Jasper thought approvingly, _trying to predict their individual strengths and weaknesses. _He analysed her mood, determining whether it matched the hard exterior.

_Calm … but not complacent._ _That's good._

What was even more intriguing was the way the other contenders seemed to respond to her. The third, fourth, and fifth-year students gave her a wide berth, preferring not to get too close. Even the older witches and wizards looked a little intimidated.

"You'd better get going, Bella," said Alice, her eyes focused on the growing crowd.

"Good luck," I whispered, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

She blinked at the contact, seeming to remember my presence. Her expression softened, but became nervous in the same moment.

"Well, err, thanks. I guess I'd better be off then."

Emmett nodded and laughed. "Go get 'em, tiger."

After one final blush, she walked away from the sidelines and out into the centre, taking her place by Ginny and Ron.

We joined the other spectators then, climbing the stands until we reached Hermione, Neville and Luna. They happily waved us over, once again unphased by our vampire status.

For the first exercise, Harry split the crowd into groups of ten, ordering them to complete one lap around the pitch so that they could be assessed on their basic flying abilities. The first group was made up mostly of first-years; out of the ten, only two managed to make the entire circuit, though their flight was slow and their balance shaky. The rest either crashed back down onto the turf, or somehow managed to collide with the stands. One spectator ended up with a broken nose and had to leave for the hospital wing after an out-of-control eleven year-old had smashed directly into him.

The second group was just about to take off when someone went dashing out onto the pitch, panting heavily.

"I'm not too late, am I? I would've gotten here earlier, but I got hit in the head with a Fanged-Frisbee."

Rosalie beamed at the sight of the boy.

_Amicus!_

Her thoughts became more concerned as the scent of fresh blood reached us, her worry amplifying when the boy's head turned.

There was a huge gash on the side of his head, and a small section of hair was wet with blood, shining red as it reflected the light. When Harry asked him if he thought he should go see Madam Pomfrey, the boy refused, and said, "It's just a scratch."

Harry, impressed with Amicus' dedicated attitude, decided not to send him back to the castle, instead performing a spell to stop the crimson flow.

The injury certainly hadn't seemed to affect the boy's abilities. When the third group took to the skies, Amicus soared upwards with them, overtaking the other third years and stealing the lead. His movements were fast and smooth, and even the more experienced students seemed impressed by his lap.

There was only one other third-year who could contend with him: a pale skinned girl with poker-straight, jet-black hair. Her blue eyes were almond shaped, giving her a look that was slightly exotic. I had seen her before in the common room, and knew that the two were good friends. She had been one of the students that had been waiting on the platform for Amicus to finish speaking with us. She was both agile and graceful, completing her circuit with ease. The girl and the boy hi-fived upon landing, pleased with their performance.

When it was finally time for Bella to take her turn, as expected, she soared flawlessly around the pitch. I'd already witnessed her broom control before, though, so I wasn't exactly surprised. Naturally, she made it through to the next round.

During the next stage, the students were sorted into groups, according to the position they were trying for.

The first to be assessed were the Keepers. There were seven candidates competing for the role, and each had to take their turn in front of the hoops. Hermione had almost chewed off all her fingernails by the time Ron had taken his turn. Luckily, he managed to save all five, but so did another boy by the name of Brian O'Nealie, which put Harry in a bit of a sticky situation. He very much wanted to award the honour to his best friend, but he knew that he couldn't be seen to be operating on favouritism.

_I'll just have to think of a good way to word it, _he decided.

Next up were the Beaters. I wasn't the only one surprised to see Amicus in this group. Considering his size and stature, I would have thought him more of a Chaser. He looked even smaller alongside the older boys, most of whom were tall and broad-chested. He didn't seem to mind or notice that he was at a severe disadvantage.

"Poor kid," Emmett said sympathetically. "He doesn't stand a chance."

My brother couldn't have been more wrong. Apparently, in the wizarding world, mighty forces came in unexpected packages.

Though he possessed far less muscle than the others, it didn't seem to affect his swing. Perhaps the competetors did have a slight edge in that department, but he surpassed every one of them when it came to aim; in that area, he was impeccable. Only the acceleration of the Firebolt could save Harry after Amicus blasted a Bludger at him.

This was just one of those times when I was hugely grateful for being a mind-reader. It was great to be able to see it all through Harry's eyes—to discover the qualities he valued the most in Quidditch players.

_This is going to be difficult, _he thought. _A stronger, more experienced player … or should I take a risk? Strong and experienced … or new potential?_

He was still undecided when the Chasers took to the air.

Alice and Rosalie clapped frantically, whilst my brothers and I shuffled forwards, perching ourselves on the edge of the bench: elbows on knees, hands supporting chins.

"Alright," Harry called, "I need to know how good you are at passing and catching, so I'm going to split you all into two separate teams. I'm giving you fifteen minutes. Ignore the hoops. Your only objective is to keep your team in possession of the Quaffle for as long as possible."

In total, there were twelve students contending for the Chaser positions, giving two teams of six. Bella and Ginny were playing for the same side, so both were wearing red bibs, thereby ensuring that they and their teammates weren't confused with the other players. On the other team, there was Dean Thomas, along with Amicus' friend, who I learned was named Viola Knight. They wore yellow bibs.

"Get ready for it," said Harry, holding the ball out in front of him, preparing to release it into the air.

I couldn't remember how to breathe. The rest of my family seemed to be having the same problem.

With one determined blow of the whistle, Harry launched the ball forwards, sending it flying into the centre.

I wasn't prepared for the absolute ferocity of the players. The second the Quaffle was free, they rocketed towards it like wild predators battling for a kill. As far as I knew, though, there was only one lioness amongst them.

Part of my brain registered that we were all screaming like maniacs when Bella swiped the target from the air. The others flew towards her like missiles, their eyes locked on the Quaffle, but all efforts proved futile against her nimble swerves and deadly speed. Ginny flew ahead as Bella surged across the pitch, catching the ball with the precision of a professional. The red-haired girl soon sent it back, giving her friend the opportunity to demonstrate her catching abilities, which turned out to be equally impeccable.

The opposing players rocketed towards her, their knuckles whitening as they gripped their brooms, pushing them to full speed.

It was difficult to believe that someone as small as Alice could be so loud. When Bella responded to the charge, flipping into the hammerhead and plummeting towards the pitch, my pixie-like sister was jumping on the bench, arms waving madly in the air, chanting, "COME ON! COME ON! SHOW 'EM WHO'S BOSS!"

And, then, when no one seemed to be able to snatch the ball from either Bella or Ginny, Rosalie joined in.

"YEEEEEEAH!" they screamed together, whooping like lunatics.

For the first two minutes, the girls were the only players to lay a hand on the ball. They passed it back and forth, untouchable in their flight. It didn't take long, therefore, for my siblings and I to grasp why they commanded such respect from the other students. They were airborne warriors—dancers in a lightning waltz—performing at a level way beyond the rest.

I relaxed back against the bench, unable to tear my eyes from the focal point of my world. Bella's mahogany hair thrashed about her face as it fought against the wind. The intensity had yet to disappear from her determined eyes. I stared at her in awe, marvelling at her violent beauty. It screamed at me louder than ever before, pulling me deeper into love, if that was at all possible.

"She looks fierce," Emmett noted, evidently impressed.

I nodded in agreement. "She looks incredible."

"Why isn't she or Ginny passing to their other teammates?" Neville wondered.

I was fairly sure that I knew the answer; Hermione confirmed it for me.

"They want to establish themselves first. Another minute of this and no one will be able to question their right to be on the team."

Her theory proved to be accurate. Though I couldn't read Bella's fortress of a mind, Ginny's told me everything I needed to know. They signalled to each other with hand gestures, once they were satisfied they'd demonstrated enough skill, immediately after which, Bella passed the Quaffle to Abe Broderick, a sixth-year student flying a Cleansweep Eleven. Though her aim was nothing short of perfect, his catching abilities left a lot to be desired, and his grip failed the second the ball touched his hands.

Viola's reaction was immediate. She swooped in like an eagle, snatching it from the air to gain possession for her team. Abe tried to redeem himself by stealing it back, but all he managed to do was to crash into Alverdine Sinclair. Luckily, however, both were able to regain their balance.

Viola passed to Dean, who passed to Natalie McDonald. The yellow team were only in possession of the Quaffle for thirty two seconds when Ginny stole it back. She passed it to another red player, who caught it easily with a graceful sweep of her arm. The only problem was her throw: when she tried to send it back to Bella, the ball fell short, so that Ginny had to fly in to protect it from the yellows.

As the exercise unfolded, it became obvious that only two others amongst the twelve had the potential to achieve the same level as the girls. Harry was torn. On the one hand, Dean was both experienced and well co-ordinated; on the other, Viola Knight had raw talent. There was a five year age gap existing between the two, yet the younger was just as just as skilled as the adult wizard.

_It's a risk, _the Captain reasoned. _She could go to pieces when we come to the actual matches … Then again, she could be brilliant. Bella was in her third year when she got in, and she was roughly on the same level back then. With a bit of work …_

"Beaters," he yelled, swooping down towards the ground, "get your bibs on! This is your last chance to show me why you deserve a place on the team."

After the students had joined the other players, Harry released the Bludgers. One raced towards Viola, who swerved out of its path, whilst the other fired at Bella. She didn't need to dodge like the third-year, because Jimmy Peakes smacked it of course, sending it in the direction of yellow, male contender. Unfortunately, the nearest rival Beater wasn't fast enough to defend his teammate. The Bludger smashed into the boy's arm, resulting in a sickening crunch. The injury, which could be nothing other than a broken arm, meant that both the wounded student and the failed Beater were out of the running.

I was so focused on the flyers that I didn't notice the group of Slytherins edging their way around the stands.

_Edward, _Alice warned, her eyes locked on the scheming seven.

I very nearly pounced off my seat when they began screaming abuse at those above, targeting Bella, Ginny, Harry and Ron more than any of the others. My sister stopped me, though, her fingers closing around my arm to hold me in place.

"Don't," she ordered, appeasing me with a very satisfying vision.

I smiled widely, and relaxed back against the bench.

Ten seconds later, Goyle, the largest of the party, was lying unconscious against the floor, a small bump already visible on his forehead.

"I love that kid," Emmett boomed, shaking with laughter as he grinned up at Amicus Fortison, who, quite effectively, had just secured his place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team by aiming a Bludger at the offending Slytherins.

At quarter to six, Harry blew the whistle, and the players descended onto the pitch. He politely congratulated them all on their performances, before turning his attention to announcing the names of the successful candidates.

"Sorry, Brian. You were absolutely great, but since you couldn't out perform Ron, I have to select him on account of his previous experience. You should definitely tryout next year, though. I'll put in a good word for you with the next captain."

Though the boy was clearly disappointed, he accepted the decision without question, grateful that he had at least made a good impression.

"The chosen Beaters are Jimmy Peakes and Amicus Fortison."

"YES!" the third-year cried victoriously, before shaking the hand of his new teammate. "Thanks so much, Harry!"

"No problem. You definitely earned it."

_Look how happy he is, _Rosalie smiled. _I'm so glad he made it._

"Finally, the Chasers…" Harry walked along the line of hopefuls, resolved in his decision. He stopped upon reaching Viola, and held out his hand. "Welcome to the team."

The girl's mouth broke into an ecstatic smile, and she grasped Harry's hand with eagerness, her eyes filling with tears which she quickly blinked back. Amicus rushed to her side as Harry walked away, pulling his friend into a congratulatory hug.

By the time the Gryffindor captain reached Bella and Ginny, my brothers, sisters and I were standing on the sidelines. I'd let her have her moment, and then I'd have her in my arms.

"Obviously, you're both in."

The effects of his words were immediate. The girls burst into happy laughter, embracing one another in tight hugs, before turning to face the runners-up, all of whom were clapping appreciatively, unable to deny the justice of the decision.

Ron ran up behind them, patting both girls firmly on the back.

"I knew you'd do it. That was brilliant!"

The unsuccessful Gryffindors began filing off the pitch, then, which was when I chose to lead my vampire family out to meet the completed team. Bella saw our approach, pulling away from the group to run at us. I caught her around the waist and swung her into the air, the two of us spinning together until I finally lowered her back to the ground.

My fingers laced into hair as I kissed her, and had it not been for Emmett's slightly amused cough, I probably would never have stopped.

"Move aside, bro. The rest of us want to congratulate her too."

Reluctantly, I took a step back, allowing the others to converge on Bella. My brothers ruffled her hair, whilst Alice and Rosalie flung their arms around different areas of her body. She blushed like a strawberry, but her smile never faded.

"I can't believe it," Rosalie laughed. "Bella Swan—the world's biggest klutz—a wicked-sick Quidditch player!"

"I knew all along she'd do it," sang Alice.

"So did we, Shortie," said Emmett, "and we're not gifted with your freaky sight."

"Well done, Bella," Jasper smiled. "That was pretty impressive."

"Thanks," she answered shyly, before her eyes flicked back to me.

I shook my head in wonderment, thoroughly dazzled, which, of course, only made her blush deepen. Pulling her back to my side, I kissed her once more on the cheek, my lips lingering by her ear.

"Incredible."

A shiver vibrated down her spine at the contact.

"I guess it was my lucky day," she replied modestly.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. You were astounding, Bella. I almost felt sorry for the poor fools who thought to go up against you. Next to you and Ginny, they looked as out of place as a fish in the sky."

_I agree, _thought Jasper. _She wiped the floor with them._

The others joined us then, and we all walked back to up to the castle together. It was impossible not to laugh at Amicus and Viola, especially given the current high spirits. They were like two excited puppies, bouncing around in their happiness, completely unable to stop themselves.

When we entered the Grand Hall, the Gryffindors gave their champions a standing ovation, demonstrating their support for the seven they prayed would lead the house to victory.

I couldn't tear my eyes from Bella all throughout dinner, trying to comprehend what I'd witnessed earlier. I'd known that she was powerful ever since the battle, but her endearing clumsiness and the drastic differences in vampire and human strength often hindered my perception. There was a side to her that I often failed to notice, one which, slowly but surely, was beginning to reveal itself.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how formidable she would be as a vampire. If she chose to, she would probably be able to bring the world crashing to its knees. Yes, she had been right to conceal her true nature; I dreaded to think how completely Aro would have wanted her if he'd realised her true capabilities.

My deliberations continued, but were put on hold when the Head Mistress rose to address the hall, calling for silence.

_What are the chances that this will cause a riot? _she wondered.

My eyes narrowed in confusion.

"As you all know, in recent years, the wizarding world was plunged into turmoil, and I daresay that every single one of us was affected in one way or another. Now, however, we have thankfully entered into a period of peace, one which we must all enjoy to the best of our ability.

"For that reason, and to celebrate our peaceful and promising future, on the night of All-Hallows-Eve, Hogwarts shall be holding … a Black Masquerade. To put it simply," the professor continued, heaving a deep and heavy sigh, "we're having a Ball."

One brief moment of silence, and then …

Complete and utter chaos.

**A/N: As always, comments are welcomed! Thank you! Giggle xxx**


	16. The Wait

**A/N: I give you complete permission to hate me. I realise how long it took me to write this chapter, and I am sorry for that. I'm not going to bore you with the reasons why. All I'm saying is that January was a killer! But now it's February, so it's all good. =D**

** One thing I will say: this chapter was basically my way of introducing the main conflict. I also had to set other things up for the coming chapters. Figuring out how I was going to make all of this work, without backing myself into an inescapable corner, took a fair bit of time. It's important to me that you all enjoy this story, so I'd rather work out all the details now, and ensure that it's delivered the right way. Once again, sorry for the delay. Hope you all like the place I'm taking this story.**

** A final note: be wary of Alice and balls. The two together may result in excessive girliness. For those of you who hate girliness, bare with me. He he. Enjoy!**

**BPOV**

"Again," Edward commanded softly, walking back over to the bed. He returned his focus to the papers scattering the snowy comforter, and lowered himself onto the cushions. Even now, swamped in homework, he created the perfect picture of ease.

I, on the other hand, was feeling anything but relaxed. It had been over a month since my unexpected performance in Transfiguration, and I still had yet to advance beyond the stage I had reached in class. I was so desperate to achieve Animagus status that I had committed one hour after classes every other day to practising in the Room of Requirement.

This wasn't the first time Edward had accompanied me. He'd insisted from the off that he should be allowed to watch me during my meditations, determined to be present the first time I transformed.

"It's no use," I moaned. "I'm never going to get this right, otherwise, I would've done it by now!"

"You heard what Professor Fulplume said," he reminded me, without averting his eyes from the book resting in his lap. "Being human is all you've ever known. Letting go the first time was never going to be easy."

A very unfortunate truth, regardless of the context.

I huffed, bored and thoroughly irritable, before resuming what was proving to be a fruitless exercise.

Before I could sink back into the induced trance, I allowed my mind to briefly wander over the happenings of the past week, lingering on specific events, like the most recent Quidditch practice, when Amicus and Viola had reminded everyone of the reasons they deserved to be on the team.

I was just as happy as Harry was with the newly discovered talent. Playing alongside the third-year Chaser was almost effortless. She threw with precision, and never failed to catch the Quaffle when it was thrown her way. The only thing the three of us—Ginny, Viola, and myself—really needed to perfect now was our ability to work together. With Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, it had been as if a secret telepathy had existed between us during matches. After years of playing together, we could predict one another's moves almost without having to think about it. In terms of skill, Viola was excellent, but that alone wouldn't be enough to win us the Cup. Only when she was in sync with Ginny and me would we be able to revive the wild force of nature that was the Gryffindor Chaser triad. Then, we would be unstoppable.

_Unstoppable … that's what I need to be, _I thought, feeling as if my head suddenly weighed a tonne. It drooped forwards as a fresh wave of amber smoke caressed my face, encouraging me to inhale. I relaxed out of my crossed-legged sitting position, sinking back into the thick woollen pile occupying the centre of the room. It felt like lying on clouds. I could have happily fallen to sleep, had it not been for the direction my thoughts were abruptly taking.

The image of Jane flared behind my lids, once again transforming into the writhing body of Edward. The desperate need to protect blazed suddenly, bringing with it a bitter flavour that sent my tongue tingling, overpowering the nectary sweetness produced by the copal. The taste was more potent than it had been before. It strengthened each time I practised, and I had experienced it enough that I now recognised exactly what it was.

Bloodlust.

I wanted Jane. I wanted to rip her in two.

The scarlet smudge exploded into life, assuming its true form almost instantly. In my trance-like state, I never expected the inevitable, deafening roar—that hungry, primal rage that echoed in my ears like battle cry; so, I was always shocked into a recoil when it came. This time was no different. The lioness' fury sounded, and my first instinct was to shrink away, though it came slower than it had done on previous occasions.

In that one brief window of hesitance, something astounding happened. Jane, her lips curled back over her glistening, deadly teeth, released an enraged, feral reply, the guttural sound far deeper and louder than it should have been.

The prior instinct vanished entirely, violently banished by the returning desire to fight. In one blindingly fast move, I threw myself forwards off the rug, my head flying back as the roar burst through my lips, twice as loud as it ever had been before. This time, I wasn't puzzled as to where it had come from. My senses were suddenly too strong for there to be any confusion.

My body responded instantly to the ferocious growl, trembling violently, like my bones and muscles had been instilled with a powerful fear, terrified of the noise that did not match the figure producing it.

My eyes snapped open as the shuddering racked my frame, trying to make sense of the world that was blurring and shaking around me. Suddenly, it felt as if there wasn't enough skin to contain my insides: every organ, every ligament, every carbon molecule—all of it wanted to break free of its casing and squeeze through any available fissure … like plasticine.

I fought to restrain it, afraid that my innards would end up dribbled across the carpet if I didn't. The other half of me was desperate to let go, continuing to insist that I defend myself from the threat. The battle was excruciating, both physically and mentally. Having my body stretched on some kind of medieval torture device would surely not have been as painful to endure as this.

Was it my bones that were suddenly grinding together … or my teeth? I couldn't tell.

A cry of horror reached my ears. Someone was calling my name, but I was too close to vomiting to be able to determine its intent. "Bella! Bella!"

_Edward … he's in trouble. Jane … hurting him. Have to … stop it._

"No, Jane's not here, Bella! She's not here! No one's hurting me. Stop fighting it. Just let go! Bella!"

His face filled my vision as he dropped to his knees. His eyes were overflowing with a burning anxiety, one which quickly spread to his brow, forming creases along the smooth alabaster surface. The concern didn't lessen his beauty. Even now, frantic with worry, he was glorious.

The image of his face, and the knowledge that he was safe, calmed the dangerous, inner tempest. The enormous, black tidal wave, which had been only seconds away from forcing me down into the abstract unknown, abruptly receded. The trembling ended, and reality returned, bringing with it the calm after the storm.

Unfortunately, that didn't last long. I flipped onto my side and spilled the contents of my stomach onto the carpet, before allowing the blackness to overtake me.

*

The darkness was heavy and absolute. It was the kind that swallows everything, like that which you'd expect to encounter at the bottom of a deep mine after the flash-lights fail. Voices reached me from somewhere far off, almost as if I was submerged in deep water, whilst those calling out were far above the flat surface.

"Bella, can you hear me?" someone asked, the velvety sound clear, yet distant.

I tried to kick my way upwards, sure that my air supply couldn't last much longer, but I had too far to go. The shadows refused to lift, as did the panic I was currently experiencing. The more distressed I became, the harder I tried move my limbs; but the effort proved futile. The water was thickening quickly, now closer to tar than anything else, locking my thrashing body in place, adamant that I wouldn't escape. I was surprised by how cold it was. I would've expected that kind of viscous substance to be slightly warmer.

"Carlisle—"

"Just hold her still, Edward," another musical voice trilled. "She's going to open her eyes in twenty three seconds. Surely you have enough patience for that?"

Alice?

"Yes, Bella," Edward told me, "she's here. I'm here." There was a brief moment of silence, before he spoke again, this time to someone else. "She blacked out before she could rebuild her mental block. I can hear her. She can hear us."

The voices were definitely closer now, getting nearer with every passing second. I stopped trying to fight against the cold restraints, and the pressure immediately lifted, replaced instead by gentle strokes that ran along my wrists. I liked it; it felt nice.

Finally, I broke the surface, my eyes flying open in search of the world's most precious emeralds. I found them easily, for Edward was leaning over me, his eyes intent on my face, his expression a mixture of both relief and concern.

"Edward," I breathed.

He inhaled deeply, before giving me a shaky smile. "You fainted. The shock was too much. I'm so sorry, Bella."

I blinked rapidly, baffled by his words. The memories were vague at first, returning slowly. It wasn't long, however, before my mind was hit with a rush of unpleasant images and strange recollections: my fingers curling back on themselves, the joints rearranging, before snapping back to their original form … My nails sharpening into deadly pointed claws, and then retracting back again, until they were short and blunt once more … The quiet bursting into deafening clamour as sounds from all directions attacked my ears ... A hundred different scents exploding in my nostrils—freesia and lavender and honey and cotton and chocolate and oak—all making my head swim … My vision sharpening, zooming in and out like a camera lens, magnifying the far off images.

So, that was how it felt to be animal—physically, anyway. I wondered briefly whether I would change mentally when I finally succeeded.

Suddenly, something registered, renewing my confusion. "What are you apologising for? This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Edward murmured. The shame was obvious in his tone. "I was monitoring your progress via your mind, and I could see that it wasn't going to work, so just before you were about to exit the trance, I tried to stop it from happening. I thought that if you felt threatened, you'd be more likely to transform. I know how badly you want it. I just wanted to help, but I never anticipated how painful it would be for you.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," he said again, his expression agonised.

I cast my mind back, trying to recall the point when Edward had involved himself. At first, all I could think of was the moment he had first called my name, flying to my side as the violent tremors plagued my unstable frame. Then I remembered the sound that had exploded from the imagined, red-eyed vampire. It had been too deep … too masculine, not fitting at all with the small, lovely female.

I sighed with this new understanding. Naturally, Edward would blame himself. That reaction was ingrained in his character.

"It _was _myfault, Bella! I'm the reason you're—"

"Stop it, Edward," I commanded firmly. He complied, but the worry line between his eyes didn't fade. I wanted to prod it gently with my finger to smooth it out. "You're the reason I advanced, but you can't hold yourself responsible for the … discomfort it caused. If magic isn't done properly, it can have painful consequences. If I hadn't been so desperate to hold myself together, this wouldn't have happened, and I'd have a tail by now. I'm the one who messed up, so quit blaming yourself, or, so help me, I'll turn you into a toad!"

The empty threat provoked a chorus of soft, bell-like chuckles, which came from either side of the hospital bed I was sprawled across. I quickly glanced around, taking in my surroundings for the first time. The candles of the large chandelier had been lit. They flickered gently in the silence, casting a muted glow over the room. The effect was actually quite spooky, and was made worse by the fact that their were no other patients occupying the wing.

To my left was Carlisle, Esme, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey; on my right, standing behind Edward, were his four vampire siblings.

"I'll buy the entire Arrows team and make you the manager if you can find a way to accomplish that," Emmett promised, grinning widely.

"Maybe she will," Jasper smirked. "Even as an amphibian, I'm sure Edward would still be pretty enough to kiss."

I blushed lightly as the vampire in question threw his brothers a scowl. The action only seemed to increase their amusement. Edward tried to retain his serious expression when he returned his attention to me, but he seemed to have accepted my words. I wondered briefly whether or not the old Transfiguration professor had had anything to do with that.

She smiled kindly as I peered over at her. "How are you feeling, Miss Swan?"

"I'm fine," I answered, shrugging automatically. It wasn't a lie. The effects of my attempted transformation had long since passed. I could have been waking from a light nap, rather than recovering from a fainting spell. "I don't understand why it was so unpleasant, though. I've never seen that happen to anyone before."

"I imagine that that's because you've only ever observed the transformations of practised Animagi. After the initial change, it becomes extremely easy to repeat the process, but it's not uncommon for people to encounter this kind of problem during the learning phase."

"How does she avoid this next time?" Carlisle inquired.

"In theory, it's quite simple. All you have to do, Miss Swan, is to simply allow it to happen. _Don't _fight it."

"I felt like I was going to explode," I confessed, determined to convey the reason behind my reluctance. "Is that normal?"

Professor McGonagall was quick to answer, shaking her head in her effort to explain. "It's different for each individual, and usually depends on the size of your second shape. Mine is a lot smaller than my natural size. When I transform, therefore, the sensation is the opposite. It feels like my insides are all being sucked towards one tiny central point."

I tried to imagine that and cringed, unsure which was worse: having your guts splattered all over the walls, or having them hoovered away, leaving behind nothing but empty space.

"I know that the prospect of giving it another go probably isn't the most appealing one right now, but I assure you, the key is to let it happen." She gave one last nod of encouragement and wished me well, before sweeping out of the hospital wing, ready to resume her duties.

Immediately after the Head Mistress' departure, Madam Pomfrey began with her usual fussing, insisting that I allow her to check me over. Though I was convinced that there was nothing wrong with me, I went along with it simply to put the woman's mind at rest.

She gave me a tonic for the 'shock', insisting that it was a necessary precaution to prevent any delayed effects.

"Don't argue, Miss Swan. You're going to be fragile for the next couple of hours."

Emmett and Jasper sniggered, grateful for the opportunities this new ammunition would surely provide. Edward's mouth pressed into a hard line as he tried to suppress his laughter, whilst I gritted my teeth, grinding them together in my attempts to control my temper.

Eventually, Carlisle interceded, demonstrating his merciful nature. He informed the nurse that he would ensure I'd be well looked-after until my 'recovery' was complete. Honestly, I think she knew that I was completely fine. The other beds were empty, though, so she was probably using my situation simply to give herself something to do.

"Thank you," I said sincerely, as we made our way out into the corridor.

"You're very welcome, Bella," smiled Carlisle. "I don't think there's anything we need to worry about here, though I would advise you take a break from practising your transformations. Take it easy for the next few days."

I wasn't going to argue with that. The idea of resuming training at any point during the upcoming weekend didn't exactly fill me with enthusiasm, not when thoughts of my most recent attempt were still running fresh.

"I promise."

"Good," said Esme, clearly relieved. "Anyway, I suppose you'll be too busy with the Hogsmeade visit to concern yourself too much with anything else."

I sighed as Alice squealed excitedly. She and Rosalie were planning on dragging me to _Gladrags Wizardwear _store first thing. News of the Masquerade, according to Esme, had spread to the village, so, in order to meet the expected demand, the local fashion distributor had ordered in a massive supply of black formal-wear from its London and Paris sister outlets.

The vampires were planning on using their superior speed to get there ahead of the crowd. Edward, Jasper and Emmett would be tagging along to look for robes and masks, but there was no way they'd ever be allowed to see the selected outfits before the big night. Alice, the vampire fashionista, had threatened to dismember them should they peek ahead of time.

Initially, I'd been hoping that I'd be able to get away with a 'semi-formal' outfit, but that had gone out the window when we'd been told that a number of Ministry officials would be in attendance, including the Minister for Magic. The whole point of the event was to celebrate those who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, and the service they'd done for Britain.

I wasn't actually sure how I felt about the ball. On the one hand, it was my natural instinct to start sweating at the mention of the word 'dancing'; on the other, however, Rosalie's gift meant that I would never have to worry about falling over again, and, of course, I would be with Edward. Just the thought of him was enough to distract me from my concerns. As long as he promised to stay by my side during the event, I was sure this time that I'd be able to handle it.

The other girls were nowhere near as indifferent. After the first few moments of silence following McGonagall's announcement, the calm had exploded into chaos, the quiet replaced by high, drawn out squeals, the chaotic lashing of tongues, and hyperventilating adolescents.

Alice had been just as affected as the rest of them, barely coherent in her excitement. _"Omigod! Omigod!"_ she'd chanted breathlessly, flapping her hands at her sister, who had her palms pressed to the side of her head, her eyes wide, like someone in shock after they've just been told they've won the lottery.

I smiled at the memory as our conversation continued. "I'm looking forward to it. It'll be nice to get out of the castle for a couple of hours."

Esme nodded in agreement. "Perhaps we'll see you there."

"You're going too?"

"Yes, I want to explore the village."

"You know, as a professor, you don't have to wait for visiting weekends to go into Hogsmeade."

"We've been once already," said Carlisle, "but there wasn't much time to really enjoy the place. We've both been fairly busy recently, what with Esme's teaching and my involvement at St Mungo's."

"How's that going, anyway?" Emmett inquired. "What kind of cases are you working on?"

The orange light from the wall torches illuminated the edge of Carlisle's profile and brightened his sapphire eyes, which remained fixed on the arch at the end of the corridor. He didn't look at Emmett as he made his reply.

"Well, up until now, I've been studying contagious, magical maladies, like dragon pox and scofungulus, but I'm also spending a lot of my time researching spell damage."

"What kind of spell damage?"

Carlisle shrugged casually—not a normal reaction for him—and I thought I sensed something evasive in the way he posed his response. "Oh, lots of different things. There's so much to learn … Anyway, Esme and I had better be getting back."

We filed out onto the grand staircase, then, which was very quiet, save for the mutterings coming from a few nearby portraits.

"We both have a lot to get through."

"Take care," urged Esme, her lovely, twinkling eyes landing on me. "We'll see you all tomorrow."

And with that, they departed, speeding up the floors and flying out of sight, leaving behind a storm of confusion.

"Where's the fire?" Rosalie mumbled, her gaze cast upwards to the door her parents had just passed through.

I turned to Edward, my expression probing. I had expected some form of enlightenment, but all I got was a small smile, as if he'd found nothing strange in Carlisle and Esme's swift exit.

_Maybe I'm just being paranoid,_ I decided, quickly shaking off my uneasiness.

The others seemed to do the same, and only Jasper's countenance retained its suspicion. That alone should have been enough to rekindle my doubts, but I was far too preoccupied with gawking at Edward and his unearthly beauty to give it much thought.

We walked at a leisurely pace back to Gryffindor tower. On the way, we had an unfortunate encounter with Peeves. He came plummeting down from the seventh floor, whizzing around our heads when he saw Edward. The poltergeist and my vampire boyfriend didn't exactly see eye to eye. Edward, being a gentleman, thought it unacceptable to poke fun at anyone; Peeve's disagreed.

_"Girls are swooning everywhere,_

_ In their beds and on the stair,_

_ For they're in love with Eddy pooh._

_ Watch out, Swan, cos there's a queue!"_

Whilst his brothers sniggered, thoroughly entertained by the stupid rhyme, Edward released a low, yet menacing, growl, which of course, only fuelled his tormentor.

_"O, pretty Eddy, strong and tall!_

_ Won't you take them to the ball?_

_ They'd pay ten galleons and a sickle_

_ If you'd just give them a ti__—__"_

"PEEVES! GET LOST!"

Emmett and Jasper were openly laughing now, their moods contrasting heavily with Edward's, who was left fuming at the poltergeist's rude humour. Peeve's let out a long, satisfied cackle, happy after successfully pissing off my boyfriend, before whooping loudly and diving away.

His vulgar poetry had left me blushing. The embarrassment was the least of my concerns, though. In all honesty, the troublesome spirit was right—the witches of Hogwarts would have given every last penny for a piece of Edward. They'd been even more insufferable than normal lately, what with the upcoming masquerade and everything.

No matter where Edward went, a chorus of giggles always seemed to follow him. A few had even hinted that they wanted to partner up with him. What was worse was that they often did it whilst I was standing right next to him! I'd had to grit my teeth on more than one occasion. I don't think I'd ever wanted to punch someone more than I had Romilda Vane the time she and her friends had approached us in the Transfiguration courtyard one Saturday.

_"Hi, Edward," _she'd said in her sickly sweet voice, fluttering her eyelashes all the while.

_"Hello," _he'd answered stiffly.

_"Are you looking forward to the ball? Do you have your outfit yet? I bet you'll look fantastic … not that you don't always."_

Seriously?! Right there in front of me?! Whilst I was wearing his mother's ring?! My engagement ring, for god's sake!

_"I am looking forward to it. And, no, I don't have my robes yet. Bella and I will be buying our things during the Hogsmeade visit."_

She hadn't taken the hint.

_"Me too. Perhaps I'll see you there." _Shaking out her hair, she'd directed one last smile at him, and said, _"I still don't have a date yet, but, hopefully, someone devilishly handsome and charming will work up the courage to ask me soon."_

And with that, she'd skipped away, back inside the castle, her giggling posse following behind her.

_"Oh, please!" _I'd whispered furiously, unable to rein in my bitterness. _"I don't think any sane man in the world has that amount of 'courage!'"_

Luckily, I hadn't had to deal with similar behaviour from Lavender. She'd already been asked to the dance by Bayle Wishart, a dark haired, blue-eyed Hufflepuff. For a human, he was extremely good looking, which was surprising, considering his shy disposition. Attractive people, I'd found, were usually confident. I suppose that was a product of constantly receiving the attention of the opposite sex. Of course, there were always exceptions. Bayle was one of them.

He'd asked Lavender to the ball after watching her defend a young student from Slytherin jeering. She was so jazzed that she was no longer drooling after Edward. Having to share a dorm with his sisters for an extended period of time may have contributed a little—no one with reasonable intelligence liked the idea of upsetting a vampire's best friend, not when it was sure to result in unpleasant consequences; still, I had a feeling that Bayle's interest was the biggest reason for her recent consideration.

I was so happy with the new development that I'd done everything in my power to help ensure that the date would be a success. Alice, Rosalie, Hermione, Ginny and Parvati had helped as well. One night in the dormitory, after the boys had retreated to their own to sleep, the girls and I had given her all the helpful advice we could come up with.

_"Don't just prattle on about your own interests," _Ginny had suggested. _"Ask him what he likes, as well. If you don't understand something, be inquisitive__—__"_

_ "But don't just fire one question after another," _Alice continued. _"Take the conversation steadily__—__give yourself time to discuss each point."_

_ "Act maturely, but don't be boring," _instructed Hermione. _"If you want him to take you seriously, calling him Bayuw-Bayuw is definitely a no-no."_

Lavender had blushed at that, shifting her pillow so that her face was partially hidden, clearly embarrassed by her past performances. That was understandable_._

"_Try not to seem overeager," _said Rosalie. "_Sometimes that can make a person look desperate. But don't let him think you're bored either. Find a happy medium."_

_ "Smile," _I insisted, _"if nothing else. Let him see how glad you are to be there with him."_

_ "And look gorgeous," _finished Parvati.

I sighed as we made our way through the portrait hole, both relieved that Lavender's interest had shifted, and wishing that the same could be said for Romilda. I already knew how dangerous that girl could be when it came to men; I'd heard all about the extremes fanaticism drove her to from Ginny, after Ron had unknowingly consumed the potion-filled chocolates. Hopefully, she'd eventually get the message.

It was quarter to nine when we arrived in the common room, so the place was still busy with students. Rosalie wanted to find a place to sit, but since all the chairs were taken, we decided to retreat to the boys' dormitory. What made the move all the more appealing was the fact that Romilda and her friends were up and about, immersed in mindless chatter.

"What's wrong, Bella?" Jasper smirked as we reached the top of the stairs.

"Nothing," I snapped. "I don't know what you mean."

Emmett threw his brother a questioning glance.

"The emotion Bella is throwing off right now is so green that, by all rights, she should be radioactive."

The two had a good laugh at my expense. After he'd had his fun, however, the empath was kind enough to send a wave of calm my way. The conversation quickly turned to tomorrow's Hogsmeade trip, then.

Whilst _Gladrags _would be the highlight for the girls, Jasper and Emmett were more looking forward to exploring Zonko's and stocking up on blood-flavoured candy.

"I wonder how many lollies we'd have to eat for our irises to turn completely red," Emmett said, resting back against the comforter with Rosalie snuggled against his side. Alice and I had assumed the same position beside our mates too.

Jasper chuckled. "Why don't you do an experiment? And while you're at it, find out how many units you have to drink before you redevelop the ability to cry."

"Ha! You wish. Even as a human, tears were beyond me."

"How about the times you were sauced?"

"Nope," Emmett answered cheerfully. "I'll admit, there may have been some loud, atrocious singing, but crying never came into it."

Edward sniggered, keen to join in with the light-hearted conversation. "The bear is strong in this one."

"Damn right it is."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, but laughed nonetheless.

I tried to imagine the picture the discussion was painting. It was too difficult, though, to accept that the Cullens had ever been anything but vampires. Their diamond-hard, alabaster skin and ethereal faces, which were almost alienesque in their perfection, seemed so normal and familiar to me now that I couldn't imagine anything else. The idea, therefore, that Emmett had once been susceptible to the effects of alcohol seemed faintly ridiculous.

"What are you thinking about, Bella?" Edward asked. "You look like you're deep in thought."

I smiled lightly, and gave a quick shrug. "I'm just trying to picture it, but it's not the easiest thing." My eyes found Emmett then, and my grin spread. "You drank?"

A snort sounded from across the room, which I quickly realised had come from Jasper. He jumped in before his brother got the chance. "Come on, Bella. Have you forgotten that Emmett's of Irish descent?"

"Oh, that's rich, coming from the Confederate cowboy! What was it, Jazz: bourbon?"

Alice's musical laugh rang through the air, and it wasn't long before the rest of us were joining in. We laughed louder when Emmett began regaling us all with the stories of his youth. He'd been quick to deny Jasper's stereotyping, insisting that, despite the fact that he'd occasionally indulged in an 'ale or two', he'd certainly been no alcoholic.

"Coming from a large family, most of my earnings were spent putting food on the table. My parents couldn't do it by themselves, so I tried to help them as much as possible. They were grateful for the contributions I made, so they didn't mind that I used the remains of my earnings on enjoying myself.

"Do you remember what I said about the fire, Bella, after Rosalie brought me back to Carlisle?"

I nodded. I'd given him my complete attention during the minutes he'd told me of his transformation. "You said you thought you were in Hell, and that you weren't really surprised, because you'd had too much … fun in your lifetime."

I couldn't help but wonder what he'd meant by that.

"You know me," he continued, "I enjoy a bit of mischief; that and a good fight. After prohibition ended in 1933, most States set the drinking age to twenty one, which of course, I never reached. I was big enough, though, that the barmen didn't questioned me when I told them that I was legal. ID cards weren't around then. Anyway, I got into even more shenanigans than usual when alcohol was involved.

"A classic example of that occurred on my nineteenth birthday. It was midnight when I rolled out into the street, chanting at the top of my lungs that I was young and invincible. The racket attracted two policemen. I was headstrong at the best of times. It was ten times worse when I was juiced, so it wasn't long before I'd convinced myself that the cops were arrogant, condescending jerks—self-righteous idiots who thought their position meant they could look down their noses at anyone they came across."

"You still sound a little bitter."

He winked at me in reply, grinning widely before continuing.

"We'd been the last ones out—me and three other guys—so no one else was around when we decided to take them down a peg or two. They'd tried to arrest us, which, naturally, we didn't take kindly to. It wasn't a serious scuffle, but it still didn't end very well for them. We took their uniforms and tied them up, stuffing socks into their mouths to keep them from attracting attention.

"There was no way I was going to be able to fit into their clothes, though; they were skinny, and I wasn't, so I had to pose as a criminal with Kaleb, whilst Robert and Henry made themselves look like cops. Then we stole the car—"

"Because that's so out of the ordinary for you lot."

My sarcasm earned a few chuckles.

"We drove out of town," Emmett continued, "laughing our asses off all the while. We were halfway down a country lane when I caught sight of them: a young couple, having a little two much fun under an old willow tree. If it hadn't been for the light of the full moon, they would have completely escaped my notice.

"Being me, there was no question of whether or not I'd take advantage of the situation. It was too brilliant to resist. I came up with plan, and convinced the others to go along with it. It didn't exactly take much.

"The two in uniform got out of the car and approached the lovers. Imagine our surprise when we realised the man was strictly bourgeois. He was a little distressed, terrified for his reputation and the effects an arrest could have on it. Being a generous bunch, we accepted his bribe, and didn't haul him back to the station."

Emmett's eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached the end of his tale. I should've been appalled, but I couldn't find it in myself to have that reaction. I wanted to laugh out loud at the look on his face. He was wearing a massive grin, caught up in his memories.

"We ate and drank like kings for a month. My brothers and sisters were ecstatic. Most of my human recollections aren't very clear, but I still remember the way the little ones jumped and sang around the kitchen as our mother prepared the feast. It was the first time in their lives that they'd ever seen cake."

His grin slowly lost its size, and the twinkle vanished from his eyes, leaving them sad and vacant. It was only a second, however, before he returned to his normal, cheery self. I didn't know what to make of it. Emmett was the kind of person that lived in the present. He didn't seem like the type who would allow the past to affect him. Nevertheless, I had a feeling he regretted that he'd never had the opportunity to see his siblings grow up. The look he'd worn whilst discussing them told me that he'd probably been an adoring older brother.

"What about you, Jazz? Got any stories?"

Jasper smirked. "Me? Of course not. I was always well behaved."

"I don't believe that for a second," Alice scoffed, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

He wasn't as willing as his brother, refusing to share the secrets of his past, which he kept concealed behind an impish smile. Emmett kept pushing the issue, but got nowhere. Jasper simply wouldn't budge.

"I think you're right about the experimenting," the burly vampire conceded, "only you're going to have to do it with me. How else are we going to learn about the kind of man you are when you're under the influence? It might shed some light on your mysterious past."

"Maybe you should put that on hold," Edward suggested, "at least until you're well away from these fragile little humans." He ruffled my hair, reminding me of Madam Pomfrey's earlier comment. I scowled at him, but his words left me wondering, well after the conversation had taken a different turn, about the type of behaviour dragon's blood would elicit when the family finally loosened their restraint. Only time would tell.

*

"Don't you think this is all a bit over the top?" I said as Edward lowered me off his back.

"No," was Rosalie's short reply. She strode ahead with Alice, pushing the door open into _Gladrags Wizardwear._

I huffed and followed them inside. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

The sight that met me stopped me in my tracks. Outside, everything had seemed so crisp against the white, autumn sky—invigorating, despite the clouds. The shop's interior provided a severe contrast. Every space was overflowing with shadows: dark, glimmering fabrics fanned out across the tables, whilst ornate masks in all shapes and sizes stood on racks of black glass. In one corner, an enormous, Baroque mirror was propped against the wall. The midnight frame was metallic and opulent, integrating perfectly with the overall theme. The storekeeper had drawn the thick, blackout curtains, so that the only light came from the hundreds of tiny wall candles lining the circular room. Their flames were silver, though the light was soft enough that it didn't ruin the overall effect; instead, it bathed the boutique in a gentle luminescence, providing enough light to see by.

I could hardly believe how drastically the décor had changed. The last time I'd visited, the store had had a very quirky feel to it; now, it looked more like a beautiful and haunting scene from a dark fairytale, loaded with onyx, charcoal, and obsidian tones. It seemed as if someone had stolen the night sky; perhaps they'd found a way to reel in the velvety shadows and twinkling stars, and had weaved it back together to create the breathtaking setting and flowing garments.

Esme had been right—the _Gladrags _owner had heard of Hogwarts' upcoming event, and would be using the masquerade to make as much profit as possible.

"I'm tempted to buy more than one," Alice murmured, her eyes sweeping the store.

"Leave some for the others," I told her. She nodded her head absently, before dancing over to the nearest rail. I followed her lead, selecting another to search through.

I had absolutely no idea how I was going to make a decision. Every dress was unique and lovely, and it wasn't difficult to make out the various periodical influences. Though I was no expert on fashion, I guessed that the designers had combined styles from earlier centuries with delicate, floaty materials for a specific reason. Most of history's fashion included garments that were actually rather gaudy, even though the designs themselves were fairly romantic. When recreating them in the modern day, therefore, it made sense that the makers had favoured flimsy materials like lace and voile.

I stopped as I reached the end of the rack, pulling off the final dress to get a better look at it. The corset was strapless and made of silk, flaring at the waist into a full skirt, which was decorated with hundreds of thin silk and voile frills. The design itself was very intricate, and undoubtedly striking, but it was a little too flamboyant for someone like me.

I moved to hang it back up, ready to move on, when an icy hand landed on my shoulder, holding me in place. I turned to see Rosalie; her expression was incredulous.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

My eyes flitted from side to side—a nervous reaction. The blonde vampire continued to stare, waiting for my response. When it became clear that I had no answer for her, she grabbed the dress I'd rejected, and shook it in front of my face.

"You're putting this back? How can you put this back?! It's gorgeous!"

"Um."

She sighed heavily, before pressing the dress to my body. "It would look lovely on you, Bella. I know you're not a fan of the limelight, but...."

Her words provoked a snap decision. I pushed the item back towards her, and said, "I think it would suit you better. Honestly, Rosalie, I really think this is yours."

Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. "You'd give it up?" she whispered.

I wanted so much to laugh at her reaction. She was acting as if I'd just given her a winning lottery ticket. I nodded, and patted her on the shoulder, unable to suppress a smile as she pulled it back against her chest, hugging it tightly. A huge grin burst across her face, and she blurted out a cry of gratitude, before whizzing round and zooming off towards the changing rooms at a speed that could rival my Firebolt.

Alice quickly joined her sister, her arms overflowing with dark lace.

I looked over to where the boys were standing. They were inspecting the masks, trying to find something that worked for them. The columbinas seemed to appeal to them the most. I smiled as Edward picked one up, turning it over in his broad hands. It was decorated with silver swirls, along with a musical scale that ran beneath the eye-holes. Definitely fitting for a vampire pianist.

Sighing, I resumed my search, convinced that I would never find anything I could feel comfortable in. On the one hand, I didn't want to look like I'd made no effort; on the other, I didn't want something as fancy as Rosalie's choice. Everywhere I turned, I was assaulted by fountains of silk, lace, voile and satin, which would have been all well and good if I'd had any idea as to which style or material would suit me best. There was so much to choose from! The only thing the dresses really had in common was the witching element. Even the more edgy pieces had a romantic floatiness about them—a strange weightlessness, as if they'd been designed specifically for the world's most beautiful enchantresses.

I was just about to go and ask Alice for her advice, when my eyes caught on something completely wonderful. There it was, illuminated by the soft silvery candlelight, calling out to me like a siren. I'd found it.

_ My _dress.

*

I smiled contentedly as we stepped out into the street. The other students were only just arriving, but the Cullen's and I had already finished our search for ball wear. Alice was gushing about our outfits, proclaiming her love for McGonagall because she'd provided everyone with an excuse to shop ... not that Alice ever needed that.

"Where to now?" asked Emmett. "Zonko's or Honeydukes?"

"The Three Broomsticks," I answered. "All this hunting has made me thirsty."

"You know that makes absolutely no sense, right?"

"Oh, real funny, Emmett. Let me amend that for you. All this dress hunting has made me thirsty."

Alice snorted delicately. "You'd think we'd sent you on an eight mile run. Honestly, Bella, have you ever heard the term 'retail therapy?'"

I ignored her facetious remark, rolling my eyes once more as I wrapped my arm more firmly around Edward's waist. Despite the chilly temperatures, which condensed my breath into a mist, I refused to be parted with him. We didn't get enough time together nowadays as things were.

A wave of warm air hit me as he pushed the pub door open, which felt nice against my cold nose and cheeks. The bar, as of yet, wasn't actually too crowded. There were enough locals present to keep Madam Rosmerta busy, but there were still, at least, half a dozen free tables. I spotted one close to the fire, and it was big enough that it would seat all of our party. Without letting go of Edward's hand, I made my way over to it, grateful for the heat radiating against my back as I slumped down onto one of the cushioned seats.

It felt nice to relax, especially after the stress of _Gladrags. _I was intensely glad that balls rarely occurred at Hogwarts, a fact I was just about to share with the Cullens, when I realised that their heads were turned away distractedly, all looking in the same direction, towards the corner farthest from us. Craning my neck, I followed their line of sight, surprised when I caught a glimpse of their parents seated alongside Neville Longbottom.

It seemed the Gryffindor was just leaving. He shook Carlisle's hand, nodded a polite goodbye at Esme, and rose from his chair, before moving away towards the exit.

"What was that about?" Emmett muttered, throwing Edward a questioning glance. His brother merely shrugged, before turning everyone's attention to refreshments.

He, Jasper, and Emmett left for the bar, then, where they met up with Carlisle and Esme. When they returned, they had seven glasses of dragon's blood, and one cherry syrup with soda. Emmett seemed to find some amusement in the mini umbrella. He said that a British, country pub was the last place he would have expected to find one. I disagreed; if there was anywhere in the world where an umbrella was necessary—even a tiny one—it was Scotland.

"I hadn't really thought of it that way," he chuckled. "I think you have a point though."

"It drizzles more than anything," said Jasper. "Sometimes I wish it would just put a load down and get it all out of the way."

Carlisle smiled, turning the pages of his Daily Prophet. "Not much chance of that happening."

Alice shook her head. "Ironic, isn't it? We finally find somewhere where we don't have to hide what we are, and it's never even sunny!"

I wanted to laugh at the topic of conversation. It still seemed strange to me that people as interesting as the Cullens could discuss something as mundane as the weather. Just as I was considering that, the ruffling of paper caught my attention. My eyes automatically snapped to the front of the news paper as Carlisle turned another page. The headline stopped me dead. It read:

_Britain tremors at Dark Lord's aftershock._

My stomach dropped as I read the words over and over, and my pulse picked up into a sprint. Maybe it was irrational to get so worked up over one written phrase, but I couldn't suppress the foreboding feeling that was stirring in my belly.

"Bella?" Edward probed, alerted by the sudden acceleration of my heart.

The other vampires turned their heads to me, including Carlisle, who lowered the Prophet to the table. I indicated it with a swift nod. "The main story on the front cover … what does it say?"

The doctor's gaze flicked back to the paper, his body tensing into total stillness. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he released a heavy sigh, and slowly handed it over. I unfolded it quickly, my eyes settling on the central image, which showed a small group of people, comprising of four men and two women, all wearing very serious expressions.

"There's … been some trouble," Carlisle said quietly, leaning forwards to avoid being overheard.

I scanned the nearby tables quickly. No one was looking in our direction. The witches and wizards were all too immersed in their own debates and discussions to give us much thought.

"Some of Voldemort's old supporters—the few remaining radicals who have yet to be captured ... have been trying to resurrect the terror their master brought upon the country."

"Why?" I demanded breathlessly.

He gave a sad shake of his head, his blue eyes swimming with anxiety. "There's mixed debate as to why they're doing it, but no one actually knows their motives. Voldemort's followers were so sure he'd defeat Harry and maintain his power that they openly demonstrated their support for him; so when he lost everything, _they _lost everything. Everyone knows who they are, and if they're captured, they'll receive a life sentence in Azkaban, with no chance of ever escaping its walls. Because of that, they believe that there is no alternative but to continue the campaign originally led by Voldemort.

"Perhaps they hope to elect a replacement from amongst their ranks, or maybe they just want to take revenge on society for everything they've lost. It might be that their desperation has driven them all to insanity. I don't know, but, whatever the reason, these people aren't just a group of half-hearted anarchists. They're men determined to restore Death Eater and Pure-Blood rule, and will use whatever means they can to achieve their ends."

I'd been so focused as Carlisle delivered his speech that I'd forgotten the other humans occupying the pub. The noise seemed louder than before, therefore, when the oldest vampire finally fell silent.

Although I knew that a group of magical terrorists shouldn't be such a worry after Voldemort, that didn't satisfy the unknown creature clawing at my gut, or the phantom pounding his hammer against my heart.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. It was supposed to be a time of peace! So why did it suddenly feel like the war was still ongoing?

Edward laced his hand with mine, protectively sliding his free arm around my waist, as if preparing to shield me from a nearby enemy. I sighed as Jasper worked his magic, sending a wave of much needed calm across the table.

"Why haven't we heard of this before?" Rosalie questioned, her eyes fixed on Carlisle.

It was Esme who answered though, clearly distressed by the news she had to deliver. "Until recently, all they'd done was hide."

"And now?"

My gaze wandered back to the front cover of the Prophet, where the six faces were looking out at me. Two drew my attention more than the others. One belonged to a fair-haired male, and the other to a pretty, dark skinned female. Both were young—neither past their mid-twenties.

"Six Aurors were killed yesterday … in a house in Devonshire."

"How?" Alice whispered, horrified, like the rest of us.

"The only information the Prophet is releasing is that Ministry intelligence led the group to Tiverton, where they believed the targets were staying. It seems, however, that the Death Eaters were expecting them."

Esme's words sent me into a whirl of confusion, and I felt as if my head had suddenly been filled with lead.

"When they arrived," Carlisle said, taking over, "they entered the house, expecting to find the enemy … but the place abruptly caught fire, and it spread so quickly that half the team never made it out." There was a long, heavy pause, before he finally continued. "It was fiendfyre."

My heart stuttered.

"The Death Eaters had cast spells to ensure that no one could apparate or disapparate within the perimeters of the property, so those inside were trapped."

"But how could they have known the Aurors had discovered them?" Emmett pushed. "Surely, the only way that would be possible would be if—"

"They'd already infiltrated the Ministry."

That was it—the moment when, for the second time this week, I wanted to be violently sick. Furious shivers shot down my spine, and my pulse thundered in my ears.

Rosalie's was the first to break the silence, her fist slamming forcefully against the table, causing the wood to crack under the pressure.

"Haven't they learnt yet?!" she growled. "Who the hell would be that stupid?"

"It's not that simple," I reminded her. "Whoever the informant is, the chances are they're under the Imperius Curse. They won't be able to help themselves. It could be anyone."

We all considered that for a few moments. Jasper did his best to hold the terror at bay, but it was never far off. I could still feel it washing closer, like the tide.

"So, what now?" he asked. "How do they identify the cursed witch or wizard?"

Carlisle shrugged, and I realised for the first time that, despite his vampiric nature, he looked tired—mentally and emotionally drained. "The only thing the Ministry can do is to wait for the insider to slip up. Until then, there's no way of knowing who they are. The only thing that seems certain at this point is that the person operates within the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. That, or they have contacts working in the Auror office."

It was difficult to believe that a few minutes ago we had all been so buoyant and untroubled. Now, it felt as if a dark and sinister shadow had descended upon us—an ominous cloud which obscured the future and absorbed any immediate positivity.

Edward tried to assure me that it would pass—that the criminals would eventually be brought to justice, but I couldn't help but doubt his words. Even with their master vanquished, the villains had already gained enough experience in penetrating the Ministry and terrorising Britain that I doubted they'd find it difficult this time around. One thing was certain: the Death Eaters were still active and dangerous.

I cast my eyes back down to the front page of _The Daily Prophet. _The young female Auror held my attention more than anything else I saw there. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. At first glance, I would have said that she had a 'pretty face'. It wasn't until you really looked at her, though, that you realised just how stunning she truly was.

Her black hair was swept back from her forehead, and fell in thick waves to her waist. Her features were angular: high, prominent cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose. Below that were her lips, both thick and full.

I hadn't seen any of that before. The first things I'd noticed had been her eyes. It was impossible to distinguish her irises from her pupils, for they were as black as coal. Initially, I'd thought them a little frightening—severe, even. Now that I'd studied the rest of her, however, against her dark hair and skin, they seemed to possess a quality that was both haunting and indescribably beautiful. It was a wild beauty, one that you didn't see until you made it past her cold stare and black, business-like trench coat.

And then I remembered that she was dead. Those fierce, captivating eyes would never look out onto the world again.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, wondering why I was allowing a stranger's death to affect me to such an extent. I couldn't seem to help it though. The idea that dark magic had stolen even more beauty from the world was just too much to bear. The only thing keeping me from bursting into tears was Jasper's influence.

A cheerful voice abruptly broke the silence.

"What's with the long faces?" Seamus asked, his eyes flicking from one vampire to the next, before eventually landing on me. "You all look as miserable as the weather, which—let's face it—is pretty abysmal."

"Too right is is," Dean said, beside him. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm his icy fingers with the friction. "It's bloody freezing out there! I'm as cold as two brass monkeys."

Harry and Ron came walking up behind the pair, both red-nosed from the autumn chill.

"Alright, you lot?" Harry greeted us.

"Hello, Harry," Esme replied, polite as ever. The rest of us smiled and nodded our 'hello'. We were all still too tense to speak, except for Emmett, of course, who always found a way, regardless of the situation.

"Where're the girls?" he questioned, noticing Hermione and Ginny's absence.

Ron rolled his eyes and slumped dramatically onto a free chair. "Gladrags, of course. What is it about school dances that sends girls round the twist? That's what I'd like to know! They've gone barmy, I swear!" He altered the tone of his voice then, in order to give an impersonation of his girlfriend. "Ronald! I'm picking a dress; don't look! Ronald, I'm going to go and get changed; stay here! Ronald, clear off!"

Finally, he returned his voice to its normal pitch, rubbing at his temples as if he had an especially painful migraine. "I love her to bits. I really do; but why is it that she's on the verge of breathing fire every time a ball comes round?"

"Well," Harry offered, "I think that, last time, it might've had something to do with the fact that you started mouthing off about her da—"

"Do not mention Krum!"

Harry's hands flew up defensively. "Don't get so worked up. She clearly prefers you. I mean, he didn't exactly try to hide the fact that he liked her and—"

"Even if he'd draped himself in banners saying _'Hermione, I love you!'" _Ron interrupted again,_ "_it couldn't have been more painfully obvious! That Bulgarian buffoon needs to learn a thing or too about subtlety!"

Despite the hypocrisy, I couldn't help but be grateful that Ron and the boys had walked into the Three Broomsticks when they had. The distraction was exactly the thing I'd needed. I felt my lips pressing into a hard line as I tried to hold back my smile.

"All I'm trying to say," Harry continued, "if you'd let me finish, is that Hermione clearly prefers you."

"That's right," said Seamus. He paused then, his expression far-off. "Well, damn! If the girl turned down an international Quidditch star to be with you, Ron, she must really bloody love ya."

"Wait!" exclaimed Emmett. "Krum? As in Viktor Krum?"

"The one and only," Ron grumbled.

The burly vampire looked impressed, though confused in the same moment. "Harry and Seamus are right then. The girl must love you."

My friend's expression brightened at this, and he nodded playfully. "It's my devilish good looks, eh, Harry?"

"Well, it's not your brains," his friend teased.

Ron aimed a soft punch at Harry's shoulder, but chuckled at the joke nonetheless. His smile transformed into a frown as a deep groan broke the happy laughter.

Reaching over to Dean, who was slouched over in his chair, head in hands, he patted him on the shoulder and said, "What is it, mate?"

Dean groaned again, "I don't have anyone to take! Left it too long, didn't I? Like a pillock! And now all the good ones have been taken!"

The boys' concerned expressions turned to relief. Clearly, they were all too glad that they already had partners to worry about our friend's predicament.

He sighed heavily, laughed once at himself, and shook his head … right before a wicked glint entered his eye.

Edward barked a sharp laugh and turned his face into my hair, trembling in his efforts to maintain his composure.

"Professor?" At the Gryffindor's mischievous tone, Esme cocked an eyebrow, clearly suspicious. Dean grinned, and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "You're into English guys, right?"

Harry and Ron choked suddenly on their Butter-Beers, their lips pulling into wide grins, despite their coughing and spluttering. The others and I had to cover our mouths, each of us entertained and incredulous in the same moment.

Esme, though surprised, seemed to take the hint in the way that Dean had intended her to, as did her husband, who chuckled at his nerve. Despite her good humour, though, I had a feeling that Esme would have been blushing had she been human.

Hagrid and Slughorn came walking through the door, then, rescuing the pair from prolonged embarrassment as they called them over to the bar with a wave. The two vampires laughed their goodbyes, and wandered away to engage in more sensible conversation.

"You cocky git," said Ron, nudging Dean in the ribs, just as Hermione and Ginny joined our party.

Despite his earlier rant, Ron adjusted his chair so that he was sat directly next to the bushy-haired witch, leaving not even a centimetre of space to separate himself from her. I smiled with the knowledge that, regardless of what was happening elsewhere, my family and friends were all happy and safe, hidden away from the rest of the world and all of its problems.

The Prophet was our window to the danger, which, for once, was on the opposite side of the glass. At least, that was what I told myself.

For the rest of the day, Edward and I were almost inseparable. After leaving Madam Rosmerta's bar, we made our way around the rest of the village, his arm rarely uncurling itself from around my waist. The cobbles were scattered here and there with yellow and orange leaves from the nearby trees, painting the scene in a wonderful Autumn theme.

Our first stop after _The Three Broomsticks _was _Zonko's_. The most interesting thing the Cullens purchased this time was a Weasley Wizard Wheezes firework set. I tried to keep my mind firmly on the image of exploding colours and fiery displays as I read the label.

_Fantasmic Foto Fireworks!_

_Want to blow-up your most treasured images? Well now you can … literally! Insert a picture of your choice into the firework's photo-frame, and watch your memories explode across the midnight sky!_

For the briefest moment, before Jasper blasted me with a tidal wave of peaceful emotion, I wondered whether the product had been released before the Battle of Hogwarts, or whether it was one of George's more recent inventions. Whatever the answer, the fireworks were sure to be good.

After visiting _Dervish & Banges, _we made a stop at the Shrieking Shack. Emmett was all up for going inside, but Rosalie protested. She didn't want to have to deal with the 'dust and filth' it would surely be home to; and so we headed of to Honeydukes, the place I had most been looking forward to.

The Cullens were delighted upon discovering a range of new merchandise aimed specifically at vampires. It appeared that the candy-makers had been anticipating their arrival, for they'd created a mini-section in one of the shop corners, where a number of experimental products were out on display. These included: _Dragon Jelly_—small tubs of crimson jello made partly from dragon's blood; _Sour Blood_, a scarlet sherbet made from dried blood and lemon juice; and, lastly, but certainly not least, _Do It Yourself Cocktail Kits_.

"No, Bella," Edward growled lowly as I lifted a pack from the shelf. Apparently, he'd found the one new design that he did _not _approve of. "That's just … wrong!"

"It's not that bad," I told him. "They're just trying to think of ways to give you a little variation."

"Well, I'm starting to wish they wouldn't! There's no way we're doing this."

I ignored him, and carried the Cocktail Kit over to the cashier's desk, thankful that, for once, there was no queue. Mr Flume, the store owner, smiled timidly as he handed me my purchase. Normally, he was such a bubbly man, too used to dealing with customers to suffer shyness. I suppose his demeanour now had something to do with the nature of the product he was selling me.

"One drop," he said. "That's all it takes."

I nodded and thanked him, before returning to Edward's side. My fiancé looked at me grudgingly, communicating with his eyes the words _'not a chance in hell'._ I was fairly sure I'd be able to change his mind.

When we finally arrived back at the castle, I headed straight for the Grand Staircase, weaving my way through the crowded Entrance Hall, refusing to be deterred from completing the experiment. We left the others at the portrait of the Fat Lady. My human friends were too involved in their conversation though to notice us slipping away.

Edward wasn't happy with my plans at all, but he didn't actually start arguing until we were alone inside the Room of Requirement, which, as usual, had filled itself with the same furniture as it had on our previous visits. The enormous bed still occupied its space at the centre of the room, bold and suggestive as ever.

Despite his protests, Edward managed to keep a hold on his temper as I began setting up the Cocktail Kit. The pack came complete with a tiny cauldron and a flask of blood. According to the packaging, there was enough cocktail mixture for three servings. Carefully, I poured a third of the flask's contents into the cauldron, and set a light beneath to warm it up. Then, I touched the tip of my wand to my finger, ready to add the essential ingredient, which was precisely the moment that Edward lost his cool.

"Damn it, Bella! We are _not _doing this!"

"Give me one reason why we shouldn't."

"Because it's repulsive!"

I flinched suddenly, caught off guard by the venom in his tone. His emerald eyes were burning with anger and disgust: like a forest ravaged by fire, the painful heat of his gaze continued to increase, until, inevitably, I had to turn away from it.

My reaction was only to be expected, of course. It was a natural one for me, and I was so overwhelmed by the sting of rejection that, at first, I failed to notice the tiny drops of moisture spilling over onto my cheeks. I swiped at them quickly, before he could force me to turn back around and look at him.

This wasn't the first time I'd been in this situation—plunged into depression as the small voice in my head told me there was a foundation for my insecurities. This time, however, my fears were even more irrational than they had been previously. When had logic ever mattered to me, though? At the end of the day, it always came down to the same thing—desire; and I'd been rebuffed so many times that I couldn't help but feel that desirable was just one of those adjectives which would never fully apply to a girl like me.

My attempt at slyness hadn't fooled Edward. Gently, he rotated my body until I was facing him, before lightly brushing his fingers across my left cheek. The motion was so gentle, like a cold breeze brushing against my skin, that I barely even felt it.

"You missed one," he whispered, his expression tender.

Embarrassed and hurt, I cast my eyes to the floor. Typically, that wasn't something that Edward was going to tolerate. Hooking a finger under my chin, he carefully, but firmly, eased my head up until I was forced to meet his gaze.

"You silly, enchanting girl … why are you crying?"

I shook my head quickly, unable to speak.

"Bella, please."

The fire in his eyes had burned itself out, replaced instead by sadness and regret. Seeing Edward suffer, even by the smallest amount possible, was something I never allowed if it was in my power to prevent it. For that reason, I took a deep, calming breath, savouring the honey-lilac fragrance of his skin, before divulging my thoughts.

"I just … wanted to give you something, especially after the Firebolt, only there isn't much I _can _give you that you wouldn't already be able to get yourself."

I could tell that he was trying his hardest to maintain a steady voice, but it was easy to recognise the effort that it took him. His posture was far too stiff, as was his expression, and when he replied, his tone revealed the emotion he'd been trying so futilely to conceal.

"Bella … how could anything that causes you pain ever make me happy?"

His words sent a jolt of warmth surging through my veins. I blinked, surprised. "That's why you're saying no?"

Edward stared at me in confusion, as if I'd just uttered the most absurd and baffling thing imaginable. "What other reason is there?"

When I failed to provide an answer to his question, he proceeded to explain his reasoning.

"You already know how appealing your scent is to me. No matter how practised I become at resisting your blood, that's not something that's ever going to change. You have no idea how tempting it is to just go along with this. Still, giving you things … it doesn't hurt me in any way."

"It hurts your pocket," I grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow, but the action was unnecessary; I knew full well that injuring Edward financially was about as difficult as it was to damage him physically.

"It does me no harm whatsoever, and we both know it. This, however," he said, raising my hand, entwining it with his own, "would hurt you. No matter how … delicious … the concept appears to me, how could I justify it?"

I hadn't realised that I'd been holding my breath until he finished speaking. The air sent a cool relief crashing through my lungs as I inhaled. It quickly spread through the rest of my body, intensifying further as Edward wound his fingers through my hair, pulling me against him. He pressed his body so closely to mine that I could feel almost its every curve and contour. That alone was enough to confuse my thought process. He was just about to lean in and press his lips to mine, when I remembered why I should protest.

"I still want to do it."

Groaning, he released me from his grasp and took two steps back. "Why? What exactly do you get out of this, Bella?"

I gnawed at my lip whilst considering how to phrase my answer. I sighed, knowing already that anything I said would send my skin ten shades of red. At the sight of my blush, Edward's brow was instantly furrowing. Finally, I decided that it would be best just to come out with it.

"The only thing I ever seem to think about is … being with you, only, whenever we're actually together, there's always this enormous boundary that we can't cross. Sometimes I feel as if we're never going to get there."

"I don't understand the connection," he said softly.

I sighed. "I guess I just got it into my head that … if I could give you a little part of myself—something corporeal—it would be easier to believe that one day I'll get to give you the rest. The summer seems like a lifetime away, and already I feel as if I'm going mad with want." My eyes found his then, time seeming to lose its meaning as the emeralds blazed once more. This time, though, I saw a very different kind of heat. When I finally remembered how to speak, I shrugged, and murmured, "I'm only human."

The silence following my little speech was thick and deep. Edward continued to search my face, weighing my needs and the meaning of my words with his own gentlemanly morals. Slowly but surely, his eyes lost the guarded edge that had been present since we'd entered the room, and in the following seconds, he closed the distance between us once more, winding an arm around my waist, before leading me back over to the Honeydukes' package still laid out on the floor.

My heart leapt in my chest. Perhaps he would cave without further persuassion.

He faced me as we knelt down together on the thick woollen rug, his knees grazing against mine. Carefully, I touched my wand back against the tip of my finger, deliberately selecting the one upon which I wore Elizabeth Masen's ring.

"_Pungo."_

The second I uttered the spell, a small sting shot across my porcelain skin. I held my breath as the crimson bead seeped through the tiny puncture, refusing to be overcome with nausea.

Whilst preparing the cocktail—before Edward had had his miniature freak-out, I'd been inhaling and exhaling through my mouth. According to the packaging, the main ingredient in the D.I.Y. Cocktails was deer, not that my weak human senses could distinguish the difference. Blood was blood. To me, it all smelled exactly the same.

Edward remained as still as a statue as I tapped the droplet into the cauldron. The moment it connected with the ruby surface, however, a loud moan escaped the insanely perfect vampire's lips, and he sniffed the air with more enthusiasm, like a human would after catching the scent of something mouth-watering.

I grinned. "Do I smell good?"

"Delicious," he answered throatily, savouring the bouquet. "Of course, you always do."

Honeydukes had always maintained high standards when it came to satisfying the taste buds of its customers. It was only to be expected, therefore, that Mr and Mrs Flume would find a way to extend that to the Cullens. Pushing the boundaries of candy manufacturing, they had used various enchantments to create a unique new product for their 'undead' market.

The magic they cast upon their blood cocktails caused them to completely absorb the scent and flavour of any added ingredients. Molecularly, the contents of the cauldron hadn't changed in the slightest—it was still deer's blood; to Edward, however, it would taste and smell just as appetising as the vital fluid flowing within me. And all it took was one drop of blood—a tiny and easy sacrifice, in my opinion—nowhere near enough to turn his irises a frightening red.

One more word was all I needed to seal the puncture. When that was done, I reached for a rag to wipe my finger; but Edward had other ideas in mind. Now that there was no danger his venom would find its way into my bloodstream, he lifted my finger to his lips, and kissed away the remaining blood, gently skimming his tongue over my now flaming skin.

It was a surprise that I didn't spontaneously combust. I felt hot enough. The burning in the pit of my stomach was spreading, and I wouldn't have been shocked in the slightest if Edward had complained that my blood was searing his tongue. It was on fire in my veins, setting every other cell aflame. Unlike the venom, however, which I could remember with perfect clarity, this was a good kind of heat.

"You taste good, too," Edward murmured.

His voice did interesting things to my body. Though rough with desire, it also retained its musical quality, and, marvelling at it, I suddenly felt as if I would melt into a jelly-like substance, rather than simply burst into flames.

I was so overwhelmed that stringing a sentence together became an impossibility, so when I finally managed to respond, the only word I could get out was, "More?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. With trembling hands, I poured the blood into a conjured goblet, which I then lifted to his lips. As the silver rim touched them, he gently placed his own hands over mine to steady me.

And with that, he inhaled one deep, final breath, before he tilted the container upwards, and took the ruby cocktail into his mouth. His eyes rolled back ever so slightly as the liquid streamed over his tongue, and he immediately began to drink more fiercely, as a desert wanderer would after finding an oasis. I counted the seconds as they passed; it took him only seven to empty the goblet.

"That was incredible," he said when he'd finish, almost breathlessly. "Maybe we should rename your blood. Ambrosia, I think. It has to be the most addictive and heavenly substance in the world!"

"I'm glad you like it," I answered, enjoying his euphoric expression.

"That would be a bit of an understatement … though, I can't help but feel a little guilty."

"Why? No one died for this."

He bit his lip. "It's just the idea of it. I've avoided physical gratification for so long that I can't help but feel slightly bad for indulging now."

"Edward, it was still only deer blood. It was just a little tastier than usual."

He grinned. "Another massive understatement."

His words provoked a smile. It was small at first, but gradually grew until it covered the lower half of my face. There was something very sweet about this victory. If I was being totally honest with myself, my desire for this had been fuelled partially by the savage green-eyed monster that Romilda Vane and the other Hogwarts' witches had helped to nourish.

I'd never really had to deal with jealousy to this extent before. Sure, whenever Edward and I had been together out of town, I'd had to put up with the interested and speculative stares he'd drawn, but those weren't constant, and I could easily ignore them. In Forks, everyone had been far too intimidated by the Cullens to pay them much attention. If they had, at least, I'd rarely noticed. Now, however, there was a lustful harpy waiting to strike on every corridor.

I wondered briefly if Edward had felt this sick whenever he'd had to put up with the thoughts of Mike Newton. At the time, I'd thought the animosity a little silly; now, on the other hand, I was beginning to empathise.

That was another reason why I'd been so desperate to have Edward take a part of me into himself, just as I would have his venom surging through my blood one day. I'd wanted something that went beyond gold rings … I wanted something permanent—something that couldn't be taken off.

My blood was inside him now, and even though no one else would be able to see that or understand its significance, the knowledge would be with me: I was a part of Edward, just as I knew with my entire being that he was a part of me. We belonged to one another … with one another.

Even with only the one ruby drop, the process had created an undeniable intimacy, one which had sent an electric current buzzing over my skin. Unlike those we had made on the night of our engagement, this new promise was unspoken, yet definitely real.

If I'd been wrong about everything else, there was one thing of which I was certain: the sighs and insinuating comments of Romilda Vane and the other swooning witches would never bother me again. Instead, I knew I'd be able to smile angelically and go on my merry way. Maybe I was just being weird. That seemed more likely than anything else. Either way, I really couldn't fin it in myself to worry about that.

"I don't have anything to give you," Edward said sadly, sensing the weight of the moment.

Smiling, I rose to my feet. He did too, before following me over to the bed, where we both relaxed against the springy duvet. Edward wrapped his cold, hard arms around me. With the heat from the fire blazing against my back, his wintry embrace felt incredibly pleasant.

"This is enough," I murmured. After all, he'd already given me his heart. What more could anyone ask for?

After a few more minutes of silence, Edward finally spoke. "Would you like to come here after the ball?"

My eyes instantly flew open and I stiffened.

"To spend some time together. I didn't mean that as in we—"

"That sounds perfect," I interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. "Please, let's do that … Just to be together."

He nodded slowly, and hugged me closer.

"Together," he purred, before allowing the silence to envelop us once more.

It was Saturday 26th October—five days until the big night...

*

"Alice!" I complained.

"Bella!" she retorted.

"Would you stop threatening me with your make-up utensils? I can do it all myself."

"But I'm bored! I've already finished with my own appearance, and Rosalie won't let me work on her."

"So do Lavender. Can't someone else deal with the torture for a change?"

"I've just finished weaving Lavender's hair."

I groaned and turned to face the pouting vampire, who was, slumped on her bed, looking at me with big pleading eyes. Her hair was pinned into neat, pretty curls, rather than pointing out in all directions, as was her usual style. Being a vampire, she didn't need cosmetics, which, of course, meant that she was always able to move onto terrorising me almost immediately.

Though I loved her pixie-like appearance, sometimes I couldn't help but wish that Alice had longer hair; then she'd have no choice but to spend more time on herself. That idea swirled in my thoughts for a moment, and I felt my head tilt slowly to the side as I examined her.

"Bella?" she probed.

"Ssh."

"What is it? What's going on? Why are looking at me like … " She broke off mid-sentence as her eyes glassed over, seeming to look at something far off in the distance, as she always did when having a vision.

All of a sudden, the make-up bag in her hand fell to the wooden floor, its contents spilling across the dark surface, clattering loudly. Rosalie whirled at the sound, her body freezing into stillness. The noise had caught the attention of the other girls too, all of whom were peering warily at the tiny vampire, wondering what in the world could ever have caused her grip to fail.

Slowly but surely, the focus returned to Alice's eyes. Her breath caught and she blinked rapidly, before her gaze settled back on me. She took two very deliberate and careful steps then, pausing when she reached the centre of the room. Her eyes were bright as she addressed me.

"You could do this?" she whispered.

"I … don't know," I answer. "It was just an idea. You're the only one who knows whether it will work or not."

"Whether what will work?" asked Rosalie, annoyed at being out of the loop.

Alice absently brushed her fingers against the side of her head, her face never losing its excitement.

"It will work," she revealed slowly, "but it won't last forever. I still won't be able to absorb the magic permanently. A few days at the most."

Everyone remained frozen as they waited for the two of us to start being less cryptic. Though she didn't actually need the oxygen, I could see how rapidly Alice's breathing had become. I think it took all of her willpower to stop herself from pouncing at me.

"Please, Bella," she whispered, more sincerely than she ever had before.

Only two seconds had passed before I was springing out the door, running down to the next dormitory, and then the one after that, and the one after that, calling for aid from my fellow witches. Within three minutes, our dorm was packed with seventh, sixth, and fifth years, all eager to assist the bouncing, inky-haired vampire.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hermione asked her warily.

"I'm absolutely positive! I've already seen that this will go well if we try. I can't wait to see Jazz's face!"

Ginny chuckled at that, sliding her wand from her pocket like the rest of us. "I've never seen a vampire faint before. I reckon we could probably do it, though."

Rosalie and I helped Alice remove the pins from her hair, whilst Hermione reminded the other girls of the charm and its wand movements. Luckily, her instructions seemed to be unnecessary. If there was one thing most adolescent witches knew best, it was grooming spells.

"This is so surreal," I laughed.

Alice grinned as she laid back against the comforter on her bed, fanning her hair out beneath her to create a halo. "It is, isn't it. Who would've thought that _you'd _ever be the one giving _me _a make-over?"

Rosalie nodded. "The world has indeed turned upside down it seems."

She moved back then, to give us room to work.

"Ready?" I asked, pointing my wand at the halo.

"Do it," Alice commanded, resolute.

"Alright," said Ginny, "on three."

The witches around me tensed, awaiting the moment of truth. Alice closed her eyes, her expression peaceful.

"Three …"

I gulped.

"Two …"

_Come on, Fairy Godmother, get it together._

"One …"

"CRINITUS!!!" A crack like thunder sounded through the room, practically deafening me as it bounced off the walls. At first, I couldn't see for the blinding flash. Even after the light had faded, my eyes still needed a few moments to adjust. When my vision finally cleared, however, the sight that met me stole my words away.

In her stillness, Alice looked like some kind of sleeping angel, her stunning face framed by a length of thick, black, glossy, locks which ran all the way to her waist.

On a human, performing such a spell would have been a piece of cake. It wasn't that simple when casting it upon a vampire. It had required over twenty witches to create a power strong enough to work.

The silence was thick. No one could speak. We were all still too shocked at the results of our collective efforts.

Finally, the excited little pixie couldn't restrain herself any longer. Leaping up from her relaxed position, she jumped off the bed and over our heads, landing gracefully in front of the large standing mirror. For one moment, there was another silent pause, and then …

Squeals of joy, higher, louder and more girly than anything I'd ever heard before in my life! I hadn't even had time to laugh when Alice's hard, little body was colliding with my soft one. I gasped for air as she locked me in an embrace which very nearly destroyed my ribs.

"THANK YOU!" she sang. "All of you, thank you! Finally, I can play with my own hair!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for this new red herring. If this was all it took to get Alice off my back, I'd round up the troops whenever possible. Having said that, I loved her normal style as much as I did her temporary one. The short and spiky-do complemented Alice's quirky personality quite nicely.

The younger witches lingered for a few more minutes, issuing complement after complement as they watched the vampire tending to her flowing tresses. Eventually, however, they all retreated back to their own dorms, remembering that they still had to get themselves ready too.

After another hour of careful preparation, the clock reached quarter to seven, and we were all dressed and polished. The other humans had already gone down to meet their partners, leaving only me and the two vampires behind.

Rosalie, as always, looked impossibly beautiful. Her hair was pulled back into an intricate weave, whilst a few golden spirals framed her face. Her mask was jewel-encrusted, and had a swan-like attachment on one side, which had been made from carefully shaped, glittering metal. I'd been right about one thing: the dress suited her perfectly. Only someone as confident and striking as Rosalie would be able to pull off the look she'd gone for. **[A/N: Couldn't resist****—****I have a tiny bit of Alice in me. The outfits, which are all by Jesus Peiro, are on my profile. They're meant to be wedding dresses, so they're not in the right colour, but the styles are seriously gorgeous. Check them out. Drool all you want. The masks aren't in the right colour either, but I'm sure you guys all have good enough imaginations that you can picture them anyway.]**

Alice's outfit was more delicate. The dress was strapless, its skirts made from swathes of floaty lace and voile. Over the bodice, she wore a flimsy lace shrug, which cut off just below her elbows. Being a fashion lover, she'd not been able to resist the opportunity to add her own stylish kick. For that reason, she'd bought a delicate pair of arm-warmers, not that they'd have lived up to that name, had it been a human wearing them. They, too, were made from thin, black lace, as was her mask. Her hair was immaculate, falling in large, loose ringlets over her dark dress.

My dress was simpler. It was a strapless number made from satin, a-line in shape. The bodice was wrapped in voile, allowing for a softer effect. As with Alice's dress, layer upon layer had been added to the lower half, creating a fountain of delicate, floaty fabric.

I took one last look in the mirror, nervous at the sight of my reflection, before I lifted the mask to my face, and fastened the ribbon securely.

"You look perfect," Alice chimed, her smile brilliant. "Edward is going to look like the cat that captured the canary when he sees you."

"I think Jasper is going to be more flabbergasted than anyone tonight," Rosalie smiled, winking at me from behind her mask.

"Absolutely," I agreed. "This is your night, Alice."

"Our night," the pixie corrected, walking over to her cupboard. After plunging a hand into a stack of neatly arranged tops and sweaters, she pulled from one of the folds a small vial. I recognised the potion immediately, but was intensely confused as to why she was suddenly holding it out to me.

"I don't understand," I mumbled.

"I want you to take half, Bella. It's a thank you gift."

"But—"

"No buts," Alice interrupted, uncorking the Empatheia. "I've already seen the way Jasper is going to look at me tonight, and I've already heard some of the things he's going to say, so there's no doubt in my mind that you deserve this."

She slipped the vial into my palm, and gave me an encouraging smile.

"There'll still be enough left over for Rose and me to experiment with, so don't worry about that. Besides, I think it's about time you learned for yourself exactly how much Edward loves you."

Alice didn't need to give me any more encouragement after that. With a few quick gulps, I swallowed half the bottle, gasping suddenly as a whirl of flavours began overwhelming my senses.

The first one was slightly fizzy against my tongue, as if I'd just vigorously shaken a bottle of soda, right before pouring the fruity drink into my mouth. I tried to distinguish the different tastes. I picked out kiwi, cherry, pineapple, and orange. The flavour filled me with excitement for some reason, and I suddenly wanted more than anything to prance around the room, singing the first cheery song that came to mind at the top of my lungs. I didn't realise that I was bobbing up and down on my tip-toes until Rosalie pointed it out.

"I guess the effects are immediate."

"Yep," said Alice, popping the 'p'.

As I looked at them, I saw the colourful auras that enveloped their bodies. Alice's was the strongest, seeming to pulse into Rosalie's, feeding her sister's excitement.

And then a new flavour hit me. Whilst this one was easy to separate from the other emotions, it didn't necessarily clash with them. Beside the bubbling anticipation, I also tasted something that I couldn't quite identify. Sunshine seemed like the obvious choice, but there were other flavours too, including honey, cream, bread, and roses.

All those warm, lovely scents went straight to my heart. I looked at the girls' faces, unable to comprehend what I was feeling, gasping as the flavour hit me in fresh torrents. And then, before I could stop myself, I leapt with all the force my human limbs could give me, right into the arms of Alice and Rose.

Both were exuding an affection so strong that it made me want to burst into tears. Luckily, I managed to avoid that, though only just. They both laughed as they returned my embrace. The emotion I was getting from Alice was stronger than that which I received from the golden haired vampire. The difference, however, was virtually undetectable, which surprised me completely. I'd known that Rosalie had warmed to me, but I hadn't realised the extent of it until now. Like Alice, she was radiating a sphere of nourishing, sisterly love—a symphony of soft and gentle flavours, potent, though not at all overwhelming.

I smiled as I pulled away, noticing the soft pink light swirling around our bodies. So the masquerade would be more colourful than I'd imagined it would be. I could deal with that.

After one last look in the mirror, Alice turned us towards the door.

"It's a good job Rosalie gave you that Newton Ball. The second Edward sees you, you're not going to be able to breathe."

"Isn't that a bit of an overstatement?"

"Not at all," Rosalie answered seriously. When she continued, her tone was kind. "You think you know love, Bella, but your body would break with less than a quarter of the emotion a vampire is capable of feeling. Luckily, you're only getting a taste of it, otherwise we'd have a real mess to clean up."

I laughed nervously, briefly noting the peculiar flavour that particular emotion created.

"You're about to find out for yourself, anyway," Alice smiled.

And with that, she and Rosalie marched me out onto the stairs, thrusting me into the big, wide unknown.

…

Somewhere just beyond the boundaries of Hogwarts, a black threat was looming … waiting for the signal … waiting for the perfect time to strike.

* * *

**A/N: Action ahead!**

** Crinitus = Long haired.**

** Angie's mission = To meet a two week deadline.**

** Sarah's (Angela's sister) mission = To kick Angie's butt if she fails her mission.**


	17. The Black Masquerade

**A/N: I know, I know****—****I missed my deadline. I'm going to cheat though, and say that since I was out of the country for five days (Europe … road trip … six boys … and me, drowning in testosterone, desperate for a shot of oestrogen by the end of it all) without the use of a laptop, I actually won. Giggle. I'm hoping you won't care after you've finished reading this one. I was excited whilst I was writing it anyway.**

** I would ask, simply because this is chapter where things really start to kick off, that if you were ever going to review (even if it's just a one time thing) that you would do it for this one. I need to be sure that the plot is understandable, so I'd really appreciate it.**

** And I know it's long, but I have so much to get through in this story that I don't really have much of a choice. I hope you enjoy it. Heeeeeeeeeeeee!**

On our journey down the Grand Staircase, I became intensely grateful for the Empatheia. Without it, I would surely have been a nervous wreck, but Alice and Rosalie's excitement was so strong that it practically obliterated all of my insecurities.

The men and women in the portraits murmured various compliments as we passed, their eyes travelling appreciatively over our faces and clothing.

"Ah, there be true pearls," said the young seaman as we reached the second floor, peering through his spyglass at us. I knew I should have been embarrassed by that, and, yet … I wasn't. I felt that emotion somewhere below, trying desperately to reach me, failing because it couldn't compete with the high I was currently experiencing. It was a miracle that I hadn't floated away already.

"I guess Professor Flitwick doesn't do thing by halves either," commented Rosalie, eyeing the hundreds of jack-o-lanterns hovering above our heads. They'd been suspended all the way from the top of the Grand Staircase to the very bottom, each one unique in expression, all perfectly carved.

"No," I agreed, "he doesn't. I wonder what the Great Hall will look like."

"I guess we'll find out soon."

I held my breath as we rounded the corner and the Entrance Hall came into view. It was bustling with happy couples and the resultant teenage hormones, all of which were causing a shroud of pink strawberry scented energy to expand through the space. I felt smitten just watching them. The feeling was intensified as I inhaled the pink hazy light.

Glancing briefly at Alice, I told told myself that it would be a terrible idea to kiss her.

_Control yourself, woman! Those feelings aren't yours! Hold out until Edward, and then it won't matter that you've become an emotional sponge._

Quickly focusing my attention on locating him, I allowed my eyes to roam over the faces filling the area. It took me only a second.

He was standing by the enormous double doors leading into the Great Hall, alongside his two brothers, the upper half of his face obscured by the mask he wore. Even then, I was still astonished by his beauty.

His skin looked especially white against his long, midnight robes. The light from the overhead lanterns accentuated the bronze of his hair, throwing his pale complexion into sharper relief. There was never a dull median when it came to Edward; every shade making up his strong, glorious body was either a shocking pale, a deep shadow, or an intense, vibrant colour. If I was a soft water-colour, then he was a breath-taking glycee—a snowy canvas layered with warm bronze, vibrant green, and deep onyx. Sometimes there were other colours too: rich golds and mesmerising purples, though I hadn't actually seen the bruise-like circles beneath his eyes for a while. He was always too well-fed nowadays for that.

I felt my heartbeat accelerate as I stared at him in wonder. He must not have been kidding when he'd told me once how attuned he was to the sound of it, because the second it picked up, he stiffened, and then slowly allowed his gaze to drift up to the top of the stairs where I was standing.

I didn't even bother to try to read his expression. My mind was suddenly in a complete whirl, every thought overwhelmed by the scale of the emotion I was experiencing. The second Edward's eyes had found mine, his sunshine-yellow aura had exploded outwards like a nuclear bomb, slamming against me so swiftly and forcefully that I didn't even have time to catch my breath.

For the first few moments, I couldn't make sense of anything. I couldn't understand the scene around me. I couldn't define the flavour of the soft pink energy, which was so intense that it almost burnt my tongue. For the briefest moment, I couldn't even remember who I was or what I was doing here. The only thing I could comprehend was the fact that I was being crushed by something massive, something so enormous that it should have possessed its own gravitational field.

I lost my balance as the energy flared around me, a tiny part of my brain conscious of the fact that I was toppling backwards. Before I could hit the floor, something counteracted the force of my fall, but it wasn't until a few moments later that I remembered the Newton Ball hidden beneath my skirts.

"Deep breaths, Bella," someone—Rosalie, I think—reminded me.

And then I realised that I was hyperventilating, my fingers fluttering at my chest to ensure my heart was still in tact. Had it not exploded too in the blast? It felt as if it would. How could anything not crumble under that kind of love? Atlas himself would probably have stuck with the world; surely it couldn't be as heavy as that washing over me now.

Beneath my mask, my eyes were wet with tears, and I was thankful that the mascara I'd borrowed from Alice was waterproof. Dabbing carefully at my damp cheeks, I concentrated on inhaling, taking a series of deep, calming breaths, before I cautiously turned my attention to studying the different layers of Edward's mood.

There was an orangey-red tint to his pulsing aura now—a slight anxiety which was faintly reflected by his expression. I threw him a smile in my attempts to reassure him. It was only a small one, because I still felt a little shaky and dizzy after being hit by the wave of adoration, but it managed to remove the tinge of worry, leaving only pink and swirling red energy behind.

Now that I'd regained some measure of calm, it was far easier to place the flavours I tasted. Strawberries and cream again, though far more concentrated than anything you could get from actual fruit.

The red swirls flaring out from just beneath his abdomen hit me next. It sent my tongue burning again, but at the same time, it was strangely pleasant. I tried to think of a good comparison, and I quickly realised that it reminded me of chocolate chilli truffles: sweet yet fiery. My head spun as I inhaled the redness, and suddenly, it took everything I had to stop myself from charging at Edward and tackling him to the floor.

Passion. Desire. Lust.

I stared at him in shock, unable to believe the strength of his feelings. It baffled me completely that someone as stunning as Edward could see me—plain next to him—in that way. What surprised me even more was how Edward seemed to be able to feel so many strong emotions at once. If the lust and love had been less intense, maybe it would have been easier to imagine them existing together in harmony.

Despite my disbelief, I could feel my smile touching my eyes. Edward beamed in return, and walked over to the bottom of the stairs where he waited for me to descend.

Carefully, I made my way down, conscious the entire time of the swathes of black voile and satin ready to trip me. Once again, I was exceedingly grateful for the Newton Ball. I would owe Rosalie forever.

When I reached the bottom step, Edward gently lifted his hands to caress my face, adding no more pressure than he would have if he'd been stroking a soap bubble. Through the holes in his mask, I could see his vivid green eyes, two deep wells overflowing with emotion. He kept them fixed on mine and said, "Now you know."

My blush didn't affect my smile. I was far too happy for bashfulness. I stared at him in awe, nodding slowly as I whispered, "I know."

He must have seen in his sisters' minds that I'd taken the Empatheia. He didn't seem to mind that I could read him perfectly now. If anything, that fact only pleased him. We both knew now that I would never ever question the hold I had on Edward again. I'd felt it for myself, and I could finally see just how unbreakable that attachment truly was: stronger and more durable than his immortal body.

Impossibly, Edward's emotions intensified as he kissed me, which only made me more enthusiastic.

I could see why Jasper craved good emotional climates. When you could so easily sense the moods of those surrounding you, it was impossible not to be affected by them. That thought reminded me of the fact that I was supposed to be watching his reaction to Alice's make-over, so after Edward and I finally broke apart, I cast my gaze in the empath's direction.

He was standing at the foot of the stairs too, his bulging eyes fixed upon the impossibly lovely vampire standing only a few steps up. His mouth was agape as looked up at her, his chest rising and falling quickly. Perhaps he'd forgotten that breathing wasn't essential for him. He seemed to need the air though.

His aura was just as intense as Edward's had been, expanding through the room like a colossal parachute. Although the centre was the same—a pink bubble streaked with the occasional red flare, the edges were completely different. There was a thin membrane of colour containing the others: a shocked orange lined with euphoric veins of sunshine yellow, along with various other colours, most of which seemed to be feeding in from outside sources.

Alice took the last couple of steps, so that she was left standing directly in front of her husband, barely an inch of space separating them. She didn't speak, but, instead, waited for his reaction to play out.

Slowly, he reached up to touch her hair, running his hand over the silky, inky tresses, his expression never shifting from its look of wonder.

"I … y-you … I … Alice."

I would have laughed at his speechlessness if I hadn't found it so endearing.

"You … you're so beautiful," he managed, his fingers moving to the edges of her mask.

"That's cheating," she beamed. Nevertheless, she allowed him to slowly unveil her face.

There it was again—that look of a man seeing the sun for the very first time. Finally, however, he seemed to regain some level of composure, his disbelieving expression shifting into a wide grin that touched his eyes.

"Do you like it?" she asked happily, already knowing his answer.

He nodded. "You look like someone who just walked out of a fairytale. But, of course, I love it, though I loved it before too. That look was so you. You can pull off anything, Alice."

What a silly statement. She was a vampire; obviously anything would suit her. She could have had no hair at all and she still would've outshone every human in the world.

"At least I can have a little variety now," she smiled, tying her mask back into place.

"How did you do it?" Emmett broke in, seeming very impressed with the transformation.

"Bella. It was her idea, though it took a fair bit of witch power."

Jasper smiled widely at me, whilst his gratitude washed against my skin. I winked at him as Edward pulled me closer.

"Sweet," Emmett laughed. "You look good, Shortie, though I gotta admit, this is completely weird."

"I agree," said Rosalie. "By the time we've actually gotten used to it, the spell will have worn off."

Her sister shrugged, still beaming. "Maybe I'll keep experimenting with it. I could be a master of disguise."

"Turn it green! Turn it green!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes at her husband, though the adoration never left her face.

I looked around at our party, noting the similarities and differences between each aura. It wasn't until I examined Rosalie and Emmett's more closely that I realised I'd missed something in the others'.

I'd been too preoccupied at the time with the awesome swell of love to notice the small patches of violet energy radiating from Edward, Alice and Jasper. The odd thing was that they were all located on different areas of their body. On Alice, the violet was layered over her eyes. Jasper had more, but it was scattered over various areas: his Adam's Apple, for example, and around his pelvis. Edward's violet areas covered his ears, eyes, and the top half of his head.

Curious, I inhaled the mysterious colour.

_So beautiful … Always so beautiful. I'll have to think of a way to thank Bella for making Alice so happy._

I exhaled so quick that I almost choked.

WHAT THE HELL?!

My eyes flew to Jasper in shock, my mouth falling open moronically. Though he hadn't been looking at me, the sudden change in my mood alerted him, and his head instantly snapped in my direction.

"Bella?"

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, pausing slightly, before I tried again. Though I was still astounded, I was prepared for it this time.

_Shock and disbelief, but intrigue too. I wonder what she's thinking._

"Bella?" Edward repeated. "Are you alright?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes, it's just the Empatheia."

Emmett and Jasper arched their eyebrows, and I remembered that they'd been previously unaware about Alice's thank-you gift.

"Look, I'll show you."

Opening my mind to him, I allowed Edward to see the room through my eyes. To everyone else, it would have been simply orange candle-light matched with black decorations and formal wear; to me, the world was constructed of rainbows. After giving him the initial picture, I focused once again on his violet patches. He stiffened when he realised I was tapping into his psychic ability.

"How?" he breathed, astonished.

I wasn't actually sure how to answer that, for I didn't really know myself. Casting my mind back, I tried to remember what I had read in my Advanced Potions textbook.

It had said that the potion allowed a person to experience the emotions of those around them by giving them access to auras, but I'd already discovered the extent to which that was intensified when an individual was transformed into a vampire. When I really thought about it, therefore, it didn't seem all that strange that other types of energy would be revealed through the ambience. If I could tap into one kind, why not others?

"I think you're right," Edward concurred. "Empatheia must simply enable the drinker to harness different types of aural energy. Perhaps it's so named because emotional energy is far more common than psychic energy, and, therefore, that's what you're more likely to experience."

He scanned the Entrance Hall, his expression curious. "What about witches and wizards? Does magic show in their auras?"

I focused in on Neville, who was standing just across the hall with Hannah Abbott. The two were bathed in a soft yellow glow, clearly content to be in one another's company. I searched for any violet patches, but found none.

"There's something," Edward murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Emmett questioned, frustrated.

I focused harder, squinting as I tried to discover his meaning. It was then that I realised the faint hue enveloping their bodies. It was so subtle that it was difficult to make out, but, looking now, I could definitely see the colour overlay.

_You're right. They're surrounded by violet metaphysical energy, though its not as concentrated as yours … more widely spread though._

"Yes. I wonder how that energy would affect them if they were transformed," he said absently, before casting his eyes back to me. "I would have thought that all psychic energy, whether it envelops the entire body, or whether it's restricted to certain areas as mine is, would always start off that faint for a human...

"When I change you, Bella, yours will be strengthened too, only you'll possess far more than me, Jasper, or Alice." He smirked then, though his eyes never lost their speculative glimmer. "I can't even imagine how powerful you'll be. Certainly more so than anyone else belonging to my world."

Though the others didn't fully understand the conversation, when they looked at me next, their faces turned wary. Their was a certain respect there too; even Emmett, the joker, looked serious in his contemplation.

Intrigued, I once again inhaled Edward's violet glow.

_… seen Bella in action already, and she's still only a human. How will her powers translate? Has there ever been a vampire witch or wizard? _

I focused in on the others whilst Emmett continued to ponder.

_She could be deadly, _thought Jasper, _perhaps even more so than Jane._

I shuddered at that, doubting that anyone could be more formidable than that exquisite abomination.

Alice. _I wish I could see what her talent will be. I wonder …_

What I saw next knocked the wind out of me. A vision swam before my eyes, one of a woman perched amidst the bushes within some deep, misty forest. She was so exquisitely beautiful that she seemed almost alienesque. Every feature of her face was angular and perfect. Her large eyes, which were framed by a set of long, thick, jet-black eyelashes, were a striking gold. Beneath them were two very faint purplish bruises. Her teeth were the whitest of white. Her snowy skin shimmered like pearl, seeming even paler against her shiny mahogany locks, which appeared thoroughly windswept, possibly from running.

I knew exactly who this wild beauty was, but it was almost impossible to accept. I stood silently, mouth agape as the vision unfolded.

_She was peering through the trees, hiding behind one of the trunks. A little way away, a bronze-haired vampire was wandering along, sniffing the air as he scanned his surroundings._

_ Unbelievably, the girl glided towards him, her feet never less than a metre from the ground. The beautiful angel continued to search the area, and didn't look at the magical female once. It was almost as if he couldn't even see her. She circled him quickly, landing only when she was directly behind him. He stiffened as she blew on his ear, before he slowly turned to face her._

_ Chuckling, he said, "You certainly make hide and seek more interesting, Bella, but won't you come out?_

_ The girl smiled and whispered, "Finite."_

_ Immediately, the man blinked, as if trying to remove something from his eyes, before his face broke into a wide grin. "I see you."_

_ And then the two unearthly creatures were suddenly locked in an embrace, their bodies so close that they could have been one person. In the next moment, the two were engaging in a passionate kiss … and then the vision faded._

Alice's eyes lost their glassiness, before landing on me. Her expression was even more wary than before, not that I could blame her. I was just as tense and nervous about what I had seen as she was. I was still trying to work past the dazzling beauty of my future face. I could hardly believe that it would belong to me someday. It made me feel slightly anxious that the change would be so drastic. Would anyone even recognise me? Would Charlie?

And what exactly had I done to Edward in the premonition? Clearly I hadn't cast a disillusionment charm on myself, because my body had still been visible. And where was my wand? I hadn't taken it out when I'd brought the magic to an end.

Glancing over at Edward, I saw that his eyes were wide as he sent waves of shock and awe in my direction.

"What did you see?" Jasper inquired, looking at Alice.

She hesitated before answering. "I'm not ... completely sure."

The way in which she and the others began to scrutinise me made me feel a little self-conscious. Alice continued to stare whilst Edward filled in Jasper, Emmett and, Rosalie. The boys started trading theories then, the three speaking so quickly that I failed to make out half the words.

Because of my discomfort, I was grateful when Rosalie interrupted their discussion.

"This is all completely fascinating, but are we actually going to go and join the others, or are we going to stand out here forever?"

I threw her a quick smile. She winked in response, before turning towards the doors, and walking into the Great Hall alongside her burly husband. Alice and Jasper followed behind her, whilst Edward and I went last.

The hall was filled with witches and wizards belonging to almost every age group, the students and teachers mingling with Ministry officials, as well as those belonging to the Order of the Phoenix. They were all clothed from head to toe in black, some standing around the edges of the room, immersed in conversation, whilst others twirled at the centre, locked in a smooth waltz. The colours of the spectrum glowed around them, adding a very ethereal aspect to the setting.

The five great tables were no where in sight, and had been cleared from the room to give the people more space, though there were two quarter-circle tables in the corners nearest the massive set of doors, both overloaded with trays and trays of delicious looking food.

The walls were completely covered in black silk and taffeta, hiding the stone from view. The material had been enchanted with a twinkle charm, so that it looked as if thousands of stars had been embedded in it, some as small as apple seeds, others as large as peach stones.

Dozens of jack-o-laterns hung in this room too, suspended where the candles usually hovered. At the far end, standing upon the raised platform on either side of Dumbledore's portrait, were two enormous pumpkins, each the size of a small car. These, also, had had expressions carved into them, and whoever it was that had designed them, I guessed that they'd drawn their inspiration from the comedy and tragedy masks used in Greek drama. Both shone wonderfully, not merely because of the light emitted by their inner candles, but because they too had been hit with a twinkle charm. I'd never seen a diamond encrusted pumpkin before, and it was difficult to believe that they had probably taken less time to create than I would have taken to tie a set of shoe laces. There was only one other additional charm which had been put upon them, after all: the Engorgement Charm.

There were instruments set upon the platform too, all seeming to play themselves. The massive stained-glass window behind them had also been enchanted, so that it looked as if it was producing its own subtle glow, illuminating each pane in the most wonderful way. In my opinion, it provided the perfect finishing touch.

Rosalie and Emmett led the way, stepping into the current of twirling dancers, the transition smooth and flawless. It was a good thing I'd learnt the steps years ago; until now, of course, I'd never been able to execute them without making a spectacle of myself. With the help of the Newton Ball, however, that was no longer the case.

I didn't need to take to Edward's feet this time; he pulled me into the waltz and I followed him effortlessly, spinning in time with the music. He beamed as we went, and I couldn't help but do the same, lost once again in the swell of the strawberry loving haze.

Edward was all smiles; he looked magnificent.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you danced of your own free will."

"It's not so bad when you can stay upright," I joked.

I looked around then, mesmerised by the fanning skirts, the glittering masks, and the weaving colours.

Esme looked like some kind of angel as she travelled over the stone floor with Carlisle, spinning gracefully in his arms. The euphoria was written all over their faces.

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny were there too. The boys' movements were clumsier than the girls', and looked even more so when compared with the vampires'. That was only to be expected though; the Cullens could put anyone to shame.

Lavender looked radiant in her partner's arms, graceful like a swan. I smiled as Bayle's aura pulsed. He was totally smitten. His lips moved in response to something said by his date.

Another shot of purple energy, another chance to listen in.

"I'm a Catapults fan." He paused momentarily, but continued at the sight of Lavender's probing expression, "Though I've lived in Kent all my life, my mum and dad were raised in Wales. They always took me to watch the Caerphilly Catapults when I was younger, so I've grown up supporting them. What about you? Do you follow anyone?"

Lavender nodded. "The Montrose Magpies."

I felt my nose wrinkle, and I suddenly had the massive urge to groan. Bayle merely laughed though, seeming entertained.

"So you're a glory supporter then," he teased playfully, his shyness evaporating with his amusement.

Lavender blushed and bit her lip. _Maybe I should've said the Chuddley Cannons instead._

_ She looks kind of adorable, _the Hufflepuff student chuckled mentally, the pink haze surrounding him brightening suddenly. He winked at her then, suddenly confident. "Don't worry. I'll educate you."

It was a relief to see someone else turning red for a change. I giggled as Lavender caught sight of me from over her date's shoulder. She smiled timidly as I gave her the thumbs up, which, of course, was odd in itself. Lavender wasn't usually a shy character.

To my right, McGonagall was dancing with Professor Slughorn, and Hagrid was partnered up with Madame Maxime, who had arrived in her flying carriage just after midday.

Amicus and Viola were doing their own little dance on the sidelines, and waved as we spun past them. I smiled back, wondering if there was something more to that relationship … something which hadn't yet made itself known.

There were a few spirits there too, all determined to enjoy the celebrations. Nick was wearing a haughty expression as he led the Ravenclaw ghost. Even Dumbledore had descended from the seventh floor to be present at the event, and was currently doing the tango with the Fat Lady inside his portrait, neither seeming to care that their movements clashed completely with the rhythm of the music.

Edward shook his head and chuckled. "I wish I could've met him in real life. I would've loved getting an insight into his mind."

"Yes," I agreed, "despite his eccentricities, he was a very gifted wizard. It's still difficult to imagine this place without him. I doubt there'll ever be another headmaster like him."

"You're probably right." He pushed the topic in a different direction then, his expression curious. "So, how's your impression of the Empatheia?"

"It's certainly interesting," I answered with a smirk. "Is this how it is for Jasper?"

"Kind of, except he sees things differently. There aren't any colours involved. More like hot cold sensation, so when he manipulates a person's emotions, its like adjusting the temperature of a running tap."

How intriguing.

"Do you pity him yet?"

"No, but that's because everyone seems to be in high spirits. I haven't had anything negative to deal with so far."

I'd just had to go and jinx it, hadn't I? I'd just had to go and open my big mouth.

All of a sudden, a green spindly tendril lunged from my left, going straight for my throat. I inhaled in shock, choking as the violent acidity hit my tongue. Immediately, I pulled my hands away from Edward and clutched them to my throat.

So quickly that everything around me blurred, he pulled me out of the path of the other dancers, and before I knew what was happening, we were both standing by the raised platform, nestled close to the wall. A few heads turned in our direction after our mad flight, but the people soon lost interest, resuming their conversations and merry-making.

"Bella, are you alright?" Edward asked anxiously, rubbing soothing patterns against my back.

I nodded weakly, eyeing the haze, searching until I found its source. For one brief moment, my eyes connected with Romilda Vane, who was standing beside a boy I didn't know the name of. She didn't look particularly thrilled to be there though. That, of course, only added potency to her already poisonous jealousy.

"Wow," I whispered, looking away. "She really does want you."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded softly.

With a humourless smile, I opened my mind to him and peered out onto the scene. There were others, too, who seemed to be emanating sickly green light, their eyes flicking to me every few seconds.

"Oh," said Edward. And then he grunted, amused by some thought.

I gazed at him questioningly. He responded by pulling me closer, pinning my body against his, grinning wickedly as he did so. The fingers of his left hand spanned across my lower back, whilst he snaked those of his right into my hair, lowering his face to mine.

This kiss was not like our usual; it was not careful or sweet. Despite my innocence, there was only one way I could possibly encapsulate it. In a word, it was pure sex.

Envy clawed at my face with renewed fury, strengthening even more so when Edward pressed me against the wall, tilting my head so that he could place very unchaste kisses along my neck. He did this slowly—deliberately. His strong hands moved downwards, clutching my outer thighs through the fabric of my dress. He returned his lips to mine, and I gasped into his mouth, forgetting everything except the way he felt against me.

He was so expert, so mind-bogglingly good at it all that, if I hadn't known better, I would've said that he'd done this many times before. Then I remembered the morning when he'd woken next to me in Carlisle and Esme's office, and wondered whether he'd actually had more practice than he was letting on. Really, what _did _he dream about?

Unfortunately, it had to end at some point. We were in public after all. Edward's face was smug as he pulled back. I tried to remember how to speak, but my thoughts were still in a complete whirl. Eventually, however, I remembered Romilda and her drooling cohorts.

Once again, I inhaled Edward's violet energy, and focused on locating her thoughts.

_...hate that girl. What's so special about her?! And it's not even just Edward. Sigh. But, __seriously, just look at Blaise! Even he can't seem to stop gawking, and he hates Muggle-Borns as much as any Slytherin!_

Her thoughts sent a jolt of surprise through me. What shocked me even more was that she was right. Blaise, who was dancing with Pansy Parkinson, was just as green as Romilda, only his jealousy was aimed at Edward. The centre of his aura was a mixture of smitten pink and depressed greyish blue. My eyes bugged as his gaze connected with mine. Though he looked away instantly, the truth was still there in his thoughts.

_She looks so … ARGH! Stop it, damn it! She's a Mudblood! A disgusting, filthy, gorgeous, lovely__—ARGH!_

Edward followed my line of sight, smirking as his eyes landed on the Slytherin boy. "Enlightening, isn't it?" he chuckled.

"That's one way of putting it," I answered, still incredulous.

"I almost feel sorry for him. The poor fool becomes more heartbroken with each passing day. With the way you look tonight, I think you've pretty much hit the last nail in the coffin."

I threw him a panicked look.

He laughed loudly. "Come on, little witch. Let's go get something to drink."

We made our way around the edges of the room, winding through the crowds. There were many people there whom I failed to recognise, and assumed them to be Ministry officials. Almost every single one of them eyed us as we passed, or Edward, to be more specific. Obviously, they knew he was one of the seven vampires living at Hogwarts. A few smiled politely, but there were some who edged away fearfully as he neared them. One or two even looked downright hostile, and I had to stop myself from lashing out, overwhelmed by the blazing red haze, which burnt my tongue like I'd swallowed fire.

I would have demanded to know what their problem was, but there were quite a few people standing by the refreshment tables, and I didn't want to attract their attention.

A flash of red hair caught my eye, and I blinked in surprise at the sight of the familiar witch.

"Mrs. Weasley," I said, shocked yet happy. She flinched at the call of her name, and blinked a few times upon seeing me, but then her expression brightened a little.

"Oh, Bella!"

I launched myself into the woman's embrace, throwing my arms around her neck whilst hers closed around my back. She hugged me fiercely, her grip tight with the force of her emotion. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were sparking with tears behind her mask.

"Look at me," she smiled weakly. "I'm being silly."

"No, you're not," I disagreed immediately. She dabbed at her eyes, and I tried to keep the lump from rising in my throat as her aura washed against me.

Motherly affection. Embarrassment. A deep, bottomless sorrow.

Instantly, I wanted to bolt—to escape the room completely to a place where pain didn't exist. Was this how Esme had felt? Was this the same emotion that had forced her to jump from the cliff? I felt as if my heart had suddenly vanished—as if I was living in a ceaseless winter that would surely wipe every grain of life from the Earth.

I called out to Edward in my thoughts, needing support. His arm was around my waist in an instant, keeping me upright. Quickly, I inhaled a shaky breath, and forced a smile, though I doubt it was convincing.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

She nodded over to her husband, who was standing by a grumpy-looking Professor Martin at the buffet table, pouring drinks for himself and his wife. "Arthur brought the invites home over a month ago. We weren't sure whether we'd come at first, but it gives us an excuse to see our children, so …" She gazed over to where Ron and Ginny were twirling with their partners, her smile sad.

The other Cullens arrived then, probably eager for a drink, too. I was especially grateful for Jasper's appearance, breathing a sigh of relief as he ejected waves of numbing calm over the area.

Mrs. Weasley suddenly seem to relax, and for the first time, I noticed just how much weight she'd lost. Though I couldn't see the top half of her face for her mask, I could certainly make out a difference. Since the last time I had seen her in May, it had become a lot thinner, her cheek bones seeming sharper beneath her skin.

She greeted the vampires in turn, asking each of them how they were finding school. Emmett was just about to give his opinion of Hogwarts when someone interrupted with a cough.

I pivoted to see three tall imposing figures towering over us.

"Molly," said the Minister, greeting the witch, who nodded in response. Whenever I had met him before, Kingsley had always scared me a little. On the surface, he had a very friendly air about him. Beneath it all, I saw a very determined man, with a very no-nonsense attitude. I suppose those weren't bad qualities for a political leader, but I still fell quiet whenever he was nearby.

The man on his left, who looked to be in his early thirties, was broad yet wiry, and possessed a head of thick, auburn, curly hair. He stared around vacantly, not seeming to look at anything in particular.

On Kingsley's right was a man with tanned skin, appearing to fit into roughly the same age bracket. He must have been at least six foot four, and had straight, sandy hair that reached his shoulders. His pointed chin had a deep dimple, his eyes shone a piercing grey from behind his mask, and he had an angry pink scar running horizontally along his left cheek bone, stretching from nose to ear.

He smiled at us initially, revealing two sets of milky crooked teeth, but after a second more of inspection, his grin was replaced by a vicious sneer.

Before I could stop myself, an enraged hiss escaped through my teeth, and my hand flew into the hidden pocket of my dress, closing around my wand. The man's eyes snapped to me and, impossibly, his rage doubled, my mouth dessicated as a result, fire ripping through it.

Edward snarled beside me, his eyes set on the livid man.

Desperate to understand, I took advantage of his violet energy, intent on obtaining an explanation for the stranger's terrible behaviour. I found nothing though, as if he were merely a mirage … as if his mind simply did not exist.

He sneered again, his glare snapping back to my vampire fiancé. Kingsley tensed beside him, but the auburn-haired man didn't seem to notice. He was too busy checking out the enchanted ceiling.

Quickly, the Minister's hand came down on the hate-filled man's shoulder, who shook it off instantly. In a thick Irish accent, he growled, "I know what it is you do, vampire, but it won't work on me! Stay out of my head!"

And with that, he turned to leave. Once again, Kingsley grabbed him.

"Brone, where are you going?"

"I'm not staying here," the vile man spat. "Not with _that _filth staring me in the face!"

"You're making a scene," the Minister murmured. "Just calm—"

"Do _not_ tell me to calm down!" Before Kingsley could get another word in, the stranger stormed away, heading straight for the doors. The auburn-haired man, meanwhile, was tracing the lines of his right palm with his left middle-finger, oblivious to everything, apparently.

It was then, in the ensuing awkward silence, that I realised we had attracted the attention of the hall. Though the music played on, the dancers had stopped, and all heads were turned in our direction. After a few moments, however, everyone looked away and returned to their activities. Even so, the room continued to throb with their collective intrigue, and I had a feeling the disruption had set a fair few tongues wagging.

The Minister released a heavy sigh. "I'm extremely sorry about that," he said, his expression apologetic. "You'll have to forgive Brone. A decade ago, he suffered a very terrible experience at the hands of … well, a regular vampire. He's never gotten over it."

Edward sucked in a sharp breath.

"What happened?" Esme asked, her voice loaded with concern.

Kingsley hesitated for a moment, but seemed to decide that the best way to excuse his friend's behaviour was to elaborate. "A vampire killed his wife on their wedding night."

Several gasps sounded with this new sickening information.

"He's never really discussed the details, but it affected him enough that, aside from when he's dealing with dark wizards, he devotes his life to tracking the one who stole away his happiness. I don't think he'll rest until he's destroyed him."

"Humans can't kill vampires," Emmett stated flatly.

"They can if they know what they're doing." His sinister statement provoked a lengthy pause, in which time all the Cullens exchanged glances, some fearful, some anxious, and some completely sceptical.

"Alright," Emmett finally spoke up, "I'll bite. How does a human kill a vampire?"

Kingsley shrugged. "Fiendfyre will do the trick. Normal vampires tend to be unaware of magic. If a human approaches their hiding spot, why would they run? Nine times out of ten, they wait for their meal to come to them. I'll spare you the gory details, but I'd advise you not to be complacent. Vampires are by no means indestructible."

I'd expected Emmett to scoff, but he did no such thing. All I got from him was a swell of concern as his gaze flicked to his radiant wife.

"Anyway," the intimidating man continued, clapping his hands together, "enough of that."

I stared at him, incredulous, unable to believe how swiftly his tone had changed. He looked over to Edward, and said, "Mr. Cullen, would you mind if I had a word ... in private?"

Suddenly alert, I immediately went to read Kingsley's thoughts, but Edward agreed to his request without hesitation, and before I had the chance to work out what the hell was going on, the two were already striding away towards the exit.

"Alpheus," the Minister called over his shoulder. The auburn haired man looked up, blinking rapidly, seeming dazed. "I'll meet you later. We'll discuss things then."

And with that, he disappeared through the doors with Edward, leaving his peculiar friend behind. Without saying a word, the man wandered away and into the crowd.

"We heard the commotion," Ginny stated, arriving with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What's happening?"

"I have absolutely no idea," her mother told her. "Your guess is as good as mine."

The air prickled electrically. The vampires had all become unmoving, alabaster statues, their eyes staring forward, unseeing. I waited for them to come back to life, guessing that their concentration was still focused on Kingsley and Edward. As long as the two didn't stray too far away, the Cullens would still have had no problem hearing them over the music, not if they listened hard enough.

Whilst they stood frozen, I told the others of the incident with Brone, finishing by informing them of Kingsley's mysterious request. Hermione came up with a possible reason for it almost instantly.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" When none of us offered a response, she huffed and continued. "Don't you think it's a little odd that McGonagall randomly decided to throw a ball? We've know her for over seven years; is she really the kind of woman that would come up with _that _kind of idea without outside influence?"

Harry sighed. "Well, when you put it like that …"

"We know there's a leak within the Ministry, but people already suspected that before the slaughter in Devonshire. In the months before it, the Death Eaters were evading the Aurors at every turn …"

"So Kingsley arranged to get half the Ministry here where he knew he'd have the use of a Legilimens," I finished.

"Precisely!" Hermione whispered excitedly.

"It fits," Ron nodded. "Dad told me earlier that, aside from the Order, most of the other guests work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It'd make sense for Kingsley to want to get them all here where he has Edward to investigate them. Plus, anyone who declined the invitation would automatically make themselves look suspicious. I mean, it's not as if the Cullens' powers are a secret. Everyone knows what they're capable of by now."

I exhaled heavily, unsure about how I should be feeling. I was partially relieved, thankful that Kingsley's business with my fiancé was simply a request for aid; on the other hand, there was a high possibility that the informant was standing somewhere in the room. That thought made me slightly sick.

We discussed the theory a few minutes longer, all the while casting glances about the hall.

The laughing man in the corner? The sure-footed female spinning across the dance floor? The red-haired man who held her in his arms? The olive-skinned man inspecting the buffet table, maybe? Or the tall spindly wizard standing by himself? So many suspects … one night to root out the culprit.

Eventually, we fell into silence, our ideas finally exhausted. Harry, Hermione and I followed Ron and Ginny back over to their parents. Mr Weasley had returned with drinks, and was speaking animatedly with his wife. Jasper, though he was still frozen like the other vampires, continued to send waves of calm over Mrs Weasley, enveloping her husband in the process.

Suddenly, an exasperated cry pierced the (mostly) cheerful atmosphere.

"Oh my—I'm so sorry! Here, let me—"

"No, no," someone said in a clipped monotone voice, "just don't. I'll fix it."

The disruption had come from Professor Martin, he was currently dabbing at a wet patch on his silver suit. Apparently, he hadn't dubbed it necessary to follow the dress code. The only black items he wore wear his polished shoes, his silk tie, and a paper cut-out mask which dangled around his hand on an elastic thread.

Professor Trelawney, who appeared to have spilt her drink down his pressed outfit, slid a hanky from her sleeve in her attempts to rectify the situation, and dabbed along with him.

"I said don't," he snapped. Though his voice only rose by a minute fraction, the tone of it was enough to startle the woman, who squeaked and jumped back. "I would very much like to know how smearing my suit with crusted mucus and bacterial residue is going to help this situation."

"But I only wanted to—"

"I do not need infecting, thank you _very _much. You've done enough already with your loony routine. If you wanted to dance, why didn't you just do it over there—" he flicked a finger at the dancers, "—with everyone else, and, preferably, with a partner, instead of prancing around here on your own, waving your arms about like some kind of deranged savage?"

I felt an intense wave of sympathy as I gazed over at the poor Divination teacher. Behind her thick lenses, her tears appeared five times the normal size, impossible to miss as they seeped from her enormous bug-like eyes. Her lips trembled once, right before she spun on her heels and ran from the hall, blubbering as she went.

"Moody git," Ron grumbled. "Why does he have to be so bloody miserable all the time?"

"Maybe he's just incapable of normal human interaction," Ginny frowned. "You know, earlier, I heard Professor Fulplume ask him to dance, and he rejected her. He wasn't even polite about it; he just gave her a flat out 'no.'"

"Shouldn't someone go after the professor?" Mrs Weasley wondered, frowning at the door she'd just passed through.

"Nah," Ron replied. "She'll not come down from her tower after that. In fact, she'll probably stay up there now for the rest of the year."

The crease between Mrs Weasley's eyes deepened, and seemed as if she was just about to chastise her son for his unsympathetic tone, but Mr Weasley interjected, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

"Anyone for a sweet?" he said, extracting a pouch from his clothes. "I got a load last week after we got reports of a magic ice-cream scoop from a sweetshop in Bath. I bought one bag of Sherbet-Lemons, two bags of Cherry-Drops, three packets of Smarties, and a pack of Fruit-Pastilles."

"And what kind are they?" asked Ron, indicating the pouch.

Mr Weasley shrugged. "I mixed them up when I got home. There's a bit of everything here." Pulling the drawstring open, he peered inside, his expression thoughtful for a moment, before he pulled out an orange piece of candy and passed the bag onto his daughter. "Which one is this now? Must be one of them Fruit-Pastilles."

He shrugged and popped the sweet in his mouth. The thing had barely passed his lips when Harry cried, "Wait!"

All of a sudden, Mr Weasley clamped a hand to his mouth, his eyes bulging to an enormous size. Without further explanation, he bolted from the room, leaving behind his groaning wife.

"This is the third time in a year! I'm fed up of this trick candy," she said frustratedly, snatching the bag from Ginny to search for the anti-sweet. "Last time it was a Fainting-Fancy, and the time before that a Nosebleed Nougat! If I find _one more_ of those things lying around the house … Ugh! There's nothing here."

"May I help at all, Mrs Weasley?" a musical voice called from behind us. We each twirled in the same moment to see Carlisle, who had removed his mask in his professionalism.

"Oh … Doctor Cullen. Um, thank you, but I'll bet that Madam Pomfrey has a store of anti-sweets. I'll go and see to it. Don't worry yourself."

And with that, she left, disappearing into the sea of black.

"Perhaps I should—"

"Leave her to it," Ginny interrupted, her expression sad. "She's never happy nowadays unless she's doing something. Being busy helps to keep her mind of things."

Understanding coloured Carlisle's face then. "Of course," he said sympathetically.

Desperate once again to escape the sombre atmosphere, which was slowly sapping the warmth from my heart, I changed the topic, inquiring as to what they'd discovered about Kingsley and Edward's discussion.

Carlisle confirmed Hermione's theory, giving us a basic outline of the conversation, though he didn't go into detail. "Alice is getting frustrated. She didn't see the exchange coming until the moment Edward agreed to go. So frequently now do we interact with beings who block her vision that she can barely see anything." He sighed and ran a hand through his golden hair, looking down the hall to where Hagrid and Madame Maxime were still twirling. "It certainly makes things more difficult."

His eyes snapped to the great doors then, staring at it expectantly. Five seconds passed before Edward and Kingsley re-entered the room. The Minister patted the beautiful vampire on the shoulder once, the two exchanging a few parting words, after which they separated. Kingsley went to join the Auror I recognised as Dawlish, who I had seen on numerous occasions, the first being the time he had accompanied Fudge and Umbridge to confront Harry about the D. A. meetings.

I grinned widely as Edward reached us, grateful for the return of his wonderful, loving aura, which was so incredibly powerful that it deflected much of the negative emotion surrounding me. I hadn't realised just how good a shield it provided until I'd been without it.

"How about that drink?" he suggested, the relief of our reunion revealed in his aura.

I smiled widely, glad to have him back. "You read my mind."

It was refreshing to have something cool in my mouth after the recent scorching flavours. Madam Rosmerta must have been the one supplying them, for the taste of my drink matched exactly that of her cherry-syrup soda.

Edward hurriedly explained everything Kingsley had told him as he sipped his drink.

"He became suspicious in August. The Auror department tracked the Death Eaters to an abandoned warehouse near Manchester, but by the time they got there, it was empty again. The same thing had happened three times before.

"After hearing about what I can do, he decided that the best way to find the leak would be to get the Department for Magical Law Enforcement here together. The idea for the ball was his, and he arranged it with McGonagall under the pretence of celebrating the end of the war."

"So she didn't know?"

"She didn't," he murmured, "but there's been a lot of talk in the papers, what with the incident in Devonshire and everything, and she finally beginning to doubt Kingsley's intentions. She confronted him three days ago at the Ministry, and accused him of endangering the students."

I frowned at that. There was a lot more going on here than I'd originally thought. I'd believed, as had the others, that McGonagall had been in on the scheme to root out the Imperiused witch or wizard, but according to Edward, she'd known nothing about it. Was the situation really that serious that the Minister was manipulating the Headmistress?

"I'm not sure whose side to take," Edward pressed. "On the one hand, I can understand Professor McGonagall's reservations—the last thing she wants to do is put her students at risk; but on the other, if tonight helps to prevent another slaughter …"

He shook his head, torn. After a few more moments, he sighed, the beautiful crooked smile making its reappearance. Placing his empty goblet on the table, he took my hand, and said, "Come on, enough of this. Let's go and enjoy the rest of the night."

"But what about your investigation?" I questioned, swigging the rest of my drink.

Edward grinned wider, and patted the side of his head. "I'm a vampire; I can multi-task."

It could've been minutes or hours that we spent twirling to the music. Though I was fully aware that part of Edward's mind was elsewhere playing detective, it didn't reflect on his face. He wore only a blinding smile, directing it at me as if I was the only girl in the world.

At quarter to eleven, Professor Flitwick took to the platfom, climbing upon a stool, so that he could be seen over the heads of the other witches and wizards, and introduced 'Nyx', the latest band to reach the big-time.

It was made up of six boys, all clothed in stylishly torn, black, pin-striped suits, and one girl, who wore a dark leather jacket over a small, silk dress which looked as if it had been in a fight with a werewolf. She was holding a violin. There were also the lead and rhythm guitars, one bass, a cello, a set of drums, and a piano. The students screamed like maniacs as the lead singer and pianist, a pale young wizard named Alfie Spyler, bellowed out his lyrics in time with the fist-pumping music.

Alice and Rosalie determinedly snatched me away from Edward, pointing to their husbands, both of whom were standing on the sidelines, chuckling to themselves. Then, to my horror, they started rocking out like normal teenagers, indicating that I should do the same. I could hear the loud laughter of the boys as I stood there. I would have bolted away if Rosalie hadn't stopped me.

The two eventually got me to join in, feeding me their enthusiasm, which became more difficult to fight as the minutes passed. By the time Nyx were into their third song, I was as loose as a clown's pocket, jumping around and waving my arms in the air, thrashing my body to the beat, completely and utterly unrestrained.

An icy arm suddenly snaked around my waist, a growl echoing in my ear. I looked up to see Edward, lips curled back menacingly over his glistening venomous teeth. His eyes were trained on a man a little way away, who was leaning casually against a wall, the twinkling lights shining around him.

Though he was obviously fully aware of Edward, he didn't bother to look at him. He was far too busy staring at me, oozing a confidence which was reflected by the cool, blue glow surrounding him.

Without warning, he pushed off the wall and walked towards us, wearing a cocky smile as he made his approach. I thought I recognised something about him, but the mask he wore was rather large, and it obscured most of his face. Emmett and Jasper joined their brother as the man stopped a metre in front of us.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the notorious Isabella Swan."

I only knew one voice that possessed _that _amount of arrogance.

"Cormac." The wizard smiled widely, before he pulled off his mask. "I'm surprised you're here. Gotten over your fear of balls, then?"

Emmett guffawed loudly, remembering what I had told him and his siblings on the Hogwarts' Express.

Cormac snorted. "I was never afraid of them in the first place. Believe it or not, Bella, I love feisty women. Bit of a turn on actually."

He winked at me then. Edward hissed, green disgust rolling of his rigid body. It made my stomach churn. The wizard arched an eyebrow at my livid fiancé, untroubled.

"You must be the mind-reader," he smirked cockily.

"You must be the one who spent the last ball shoving bread-sticks up his nostrils."

Despite the sneer audible in Edward's voice, Cormac remained unruffled, amused even. It wasn't that surprising really; he always _had _thought of himself as god's gift.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" I demanded.

Another arrogant smile. "I was invited, as was the rest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"So your filing job has perks, then?" asked Edward with exaggerated politeness.

For the first time, Cormac's expression faltered, darkening ever so slightly. He quickly collected himself though. "It's alright. Just an internship with my Uncle Tiberius. Now that Kingsley is running the show, he's back on the Wizengamot. He left when Fudge appointed Umbridge as the High Inquisitor.

"Anyway, you know what they say about having contacts." He waved a hand and laughed. "It's all up from here."

I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he could actually be that pompous and self-confident beneath the surface. Curiously, I inhaled Edward's violet energy, determined to find out.

I'd only been listening for about five seconds when I'd already had enough, subsequently withdrawing. He was mentally chanting the lyrics to a very crude song about a broomstick and a witch name Tallulah Faloolah, Edward's face in his mind's eye. I held back a growl. Only a jerk like Cormac would go out of his way to torment my gentlemanly boyfriend with such a vulgar rhyme.

It didn't surprise me at all that Edward wanted to get away from him, and I certainly didn't feel bad when I gave him my short and snappy goodbye.

"What an ass!" Rosalie exclaimed. "I'm so glad you hit him where it hurt at the Yule Ball, Bella, though I wish you'd done it again!"

"Me too," I grumbled, a little sorry that the opportunity had passed.

"He wasn't laughing when you called him on his job," Jasper smirked at Edward. "Actually, he was slightly embarrassed."

"Yes," I agreed, "but he always was the kind of guy who tried to portray himself as the epitome of cool."

Edward's expression was still tight. He was probably deciding whether or not to go back and drink the boy's blood. "He thought he knew how to keep me out, but he wasn't good enough. If he hadn't slipped up, he probably would've had you thinking he was in with the Aurors, Bella."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I don't know why they felt the need to invite him."

"Invite who?" asked Harry, his arm slung around Ginny's shoulders as the two joined the discussion.

I pointed over to the great double doors, towards which Cormac was heading. He gave one last look at the scene, before skulking out into the Entrance Hall.

"Oh," said Ginny, frowning, "him."

"Yeah … him."

"It's a good job Ron doesn't know he's here. You know how much he dislikes him."

"I won't tell him," I smiled, glancing over at him and Hermione. They seemed to have forgotten the guests and students thrashing around them, their arms snaked around one another' necks, locked in a tender kiss. After a few moments, I turned back to the others, inquiring as to Mr Weasley's current health.

"Oh, he's alright. Skiving Snackboxes are well publicised, and the teachers have known about them for ages now, so Madam Pomfrey keeps a stash of anti-sweets. She and Mum stopped off in the hospital wing on their way to find Dad. He left a trail of … well, you know—all the way up to the prefect's bathroom. He'd made a bit of a mess of himself, so Mum ended up taking him home."

Ginny chuckled, but I could taste the sadness that thoughts of her parents provoked. Yes, Voldemort certainly had left some really deep scars behind. Would there be even more soon?

That last thought fed every thread of anger poisoning my more positive emotions. Without another moment's hesitation, I dived into the minds of the guest witches and wizards, sifting through the thoughts, desperate for a breakthrough.

_… no idea why Dumbledore is doing the funky chicken._

_ Alpheus is throwing it all away, _a nearby middle-aged wizard groaned mentally. His gaze followed a lean man with curly auburn hair, the same one I'd seen earlier with Kingsley. He was alone, standing by the eastern wall. _What's with him? He used to be so focused and perceptive, but he just looks lost these days! I know he had a rough time after the massacre, but if he doesn't get his act together soon, he's going to lose his chance to take over the Auror office. Saber's already stealing his limelight—tracking the Death Eaters to Devonshire. Much more of this and Kingsley will be appointing him instead._

Not important, I told myself. Not helpful.

_ You'd think McGonagall would pick a better time to look miserable. I thought this was supposed to be a celebration._

_ … not fooling anyone. Everyone knows why he's got us here—_Dawlish. _This is his first mistake. He's endangering the students, and for what? A sixth of the Aurors are Occlumens for Merlin's sake! This entire thing could end up proving completely pointless._

It only took me another few minutes to realise that the man was right. Though I tried to access the thoughts of all the guests, occasionally, all I found was empty space. Every time that happened, the person I'd attempted to invade would turn to glare at Edward, infuriated by the worm wriggling on the outskirts of their impenetrable minds.

It was quarter to twelve when I left to go and have a human moment. Basking in the warmth of Edward's loving aura was completely wonderful, an experience that I would never ever want to forget, but I couldn't deny that it was a relief to have a few moments to myself. The Great Hall was just as rife with anger, jealousy, anxiety, and distrust as it was with sticky teenage passion, bubbling merriment, and super-massive immortal adoration; a few moments away from it all helped me clear my head.

I was grateful for the peace … grateful that Myrtle had decided to stick to her U-bend. I felt guilty about that afterwards, irritated with myself for thinking so selfishly. If I'd been murdered in a toilet, I probably would've spent eternity sulking too. Every now and then, a high-pitched sob would echo out of her cubicle. If there'd been anything at all that I could've said to cheer the ghost up, I would've said it, but she'd been in the same depressed mood for fifty years, and I knew for a fact there was nothing I could do that would lift her from it. I'd tried twice before in my first and third year; Myrtle had bitten my head off.

The second I was finished, therefore, I ran straight for the door, fleeing the incurable moping, eager to be back with my vampire.

I wasn't looking where I was going—I was in too much of a hurry; instead, I turned out into the corridor, my skirts billowing as I ran, and instantly collided with something solid. The impact sent me crashing backwards. I braced myself for another collision, having forgotten the Newton Ball yet again, but, as always, I was pushed back upright the second my body made a forty-five degree angle with the floor.

My heart pounded as I tried to gather my wits, sent into a frenzy by the unexpected encounter. The figure, who hadn't even flinched when the Newton Ball had performed its magic, was bathed completely in shadow. That alone caused the hairs on the back of my neck and arms to stand on end.

By the mystery person's size, I could only conclude that they were male. 'He' was robed from head to toe in black, every inch of his skin hidden from sight. On his hands, he wore dark gloves; under his robes he wore a black turtleneck weaved from the thinnest cotton, which covered his neck completely; dark leather boots peeped out from beneath his floor-length garments; and upon his face, he wore a Volto mask—a full faced Venetian style piece, leaving his identity fully protected.

At first, though I remained uneasy, the dominating emotion was embarrassment, heat flooding my cheeks because I'd bouldered into a total stranger. That feeling was cut short, however, as something frightening occurred to me: _what had he been doing standing outside the girl's bathroom?_ Adrenaline crashed through my system as I realised the probable answer.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, "I didn't see you there."

The stranger said nothing.

"A-are you lost?"

Nothing.

"I could lead you to the men's room if you're—"

Without warning, the man lunged, hands shooting forward like a cobra strike. There was no time to scream, no time to think, or to even reach for my wand. Before I knew what was happening, I was slamming painfully against the stone castle wall, my arms pinned tightly above my head, whilst one gloved hand clamped my mouth shut, preventing any cry for help from issuing through my lips.

The man's aura flared, his emotions feeding my fear. I whimpered as I inhaled his red excitement, realising instantly that this person, whoever he was, was someone who got off on being in control … someone who loved feeling powerful more than anything.

Was this it then? Was I destined to suffer a similar fate as Rosalie? That thought only made me struggle harder. The man was stronger though, and he restrained me easily.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned, his voice rough and muffled. I fell still in an instant, wondering what was coming next. "Your vampire isn't coming for you, Isabella, so I'd advise you not to anger me."

I blinked at his use of my name. Did I know this person? Did he know me? Then I remembered that many witches and wizards outside of Hogwarts had heard of me. They knew of me because of my connection with Edward and the Cullens, the family of vampires who had become famous overnight thanks to the report issued by the Prophet. Bertie Bigwig and Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, had recognised us on sight. It wasn't so strange, therefore, that this man had known my name.

He chuckled quietly as I waited for him to continue. Eventually, he did. "I'm an Occlumens, you see, just like you. At first, I thought we'd have only a few seconds at the most to chat, but I learned a few interesting facts tonight. Your peers were very helpful. We don't have to rush this after all, and that filthy half-breed can remain oblivious to the entire thing."

At his words, I tried desperately to lower my mental block, aware that it was the only way to alert Edward. It was the equivalent of discarding body armour in a war zone though. The instinct to hold onto my defences, whilst danger was staring me right in the face, was just too strong.

"The Seer won't catch this either." He nodded to something behind him, and I realised for the first time that we weren't alone. About five metres away stood a tiny figure, obscured by the black ankle-length sheet hanging over it's head. Two holes had been cut in the fabric, revealing a pair of massive, sparkling, green eyes. There was an extra set of slits on either side of the creature's head as well, through which poked two enormous ears.

So the man had got it all covered. He knew about the holes in Alice's vision—that there were beings that blocked her sight. Could Edward hear the thoughts of house elves? Did they register the same on his radar? Maybe, maybe not. His concentration was focused completely on humans tonight though—specifically those crowding the hall, so it didn't matter either way.

"I want you to deliver a message for me," the stranger said suddenly, surprising me. "After I've gone, you will return to Edward and instruct him to abandon this mission. Tell him that … should he continue to help the Minister … should he persist with this investigation, I will personally see to it that he comes to regret his decision for the rest of his pathetic existence."

As a way of illustrating his point, he stroked my cheek roughly with the thumb of the hand pressed against my face. I closed my eyes to block out the image of the expressionless mask he wore, which now seemed more frightening than anything else I had ever seen.

Cautiously, he pulled the hand away from my mouth, and asked, "Have I made myself clear?"

Unable to speak, I nodded quickly.

"Good," he said, an evil smile audible in his voice. "I wouldn't want to have to hurt you, Bella, so do try your best to make him listen."

"It won't work," I stated fiercely, finally finding my courage. The man's head tilted slightly to the side, as if I'd amused him somehow. "Threatening _me _will only make Edward more determined to find you!"

"Is that so? Maybe I ought to up the stakes then." He paused momentarily, considering his words. "Tell him that … if he doesn't let this go … his family will learn just how destructive Fiendfyre can be."

I stiffened, my stomach dropping in an instant.

"Or maybe he'll find out all about it first hand …"

Right then—right when that evil, loathsome monster was stupid enough to put that image in my head, something snapped ferociously inside me.

Red exploded across my vision, a lioness-shaped splodge forming before my eyes. There was no trance now as the deafening, primal roar ripped through my teeth, no confusion as to where it came from.

The stranger stumbled back in shock, freeing my arms as a result. Without thinking, I brought my right one back, injecting every ounce of power I possessed into my bunching muscles … and smashed it forwards into his face.

He screamed in outrage as the lower half of his mask shattered, my fist slamming against his nose, which gave a sickening crunch.

Blood spurted across my knuckles, hot and wet, both from the man's broken nose, and from the cuts the porcelain created as it sliced into my skin.

"YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH!" he spat, leaping back again, his teeth bared in an infuriated snarl.

I drew my wand a second before he did his, so I was immediately on the offensive, firing a Stunner straight at him.

He deflected it easily, and shouted, "Crucio!"

I whipped my wand at a nearby suit of armour. It dived and took the curse, the metal rattling under the weight of the magic.

"_Intra Extra_!" I screamed from behind the statue. A jet of purple light blasted suddenly through the air. The man tried to cast a shield in defence, but my hex connected before he could complete the charm, hitting him square on the chest.

A shriek of agony pierced the air as the stranger's hands flew to his face, where his skin had suddenly turned inside out, big bluish veins embedded in the bloody surface. I hesitated a second, expecting him to wrench off his mask, but he instead took advantage of my pause, slashing his wand at the giant rug beneath my feet.

The carpet jerked forwards, its sudden acceleration causing me and the suit of armour to fall backwards towards the ground. The weight of the metal statue must have counteracted the Newton Ball's magic, because it failed to work this time, and I ended up sprawled across the floor, crushed and winded.

The man paced to my side, his expression livid, and kicked forcefully at my hand. The mahogany stick flew away, rolling across the stone floor. Suddenly, a wriggle appeared at the edge of my brain.

Edward.

He must have been wondering what was keeping me. My arm was outstretched in my efforts to reach my wand, but it was too far for me to grasp. It only took another second before I accepted that the fight was over. I'd lost this one.

Suddenly, the man's foot slammed down upon my hand, the bones shattering with the pressure.

I screamed in agony, but was silenced in an instant, the air forced from my lungs as I received a kick to the ribs. Though the pain was dizzying, I tried to focus through it, aware that I had only had one option left: I had to remove armour in a war zone.

Taking a deep breath, I told myself I was somewhere else altogether—somewhere with Edward. It went against all my instincts to do it, and was especially hard when I had to ignore my enemy's pulsing emotions.

"You're a fool, Bella," he hissed, aiming his wand at my head, "and you're going to pay for what you've done."

Eyes closed. One last deep breath, and … the worm vanished.

"Crucio!"

I writhed beneath the metal statue as the world turned to pain, feeling as if my chest would burst with the force of my shrieks.

"EDWARD!"

The following seconds felt like hours, hours through which I cried unashamedly into the dark,

"Stupid girl."

A chorus of loud snarls echoed from somewhere far off, and the pain stopped abruptly. My eyes flew open at the beautiful sound, my hope swelling like a balloon in time with my enemy's fear. He bolted away, leaping in the direction of the trembling house elf.

And then he came into view—the most beautiful angel in existence, his lips curled back over his teeth in fury, his expression wild and terrible … completely and utterly glorious. The moment his eyes landed on me, the air exploded with a heat so fierce I thought it would burn the skin off my bones.

"Take us home!" the man screamed at the elf, provoking another guttural roar.

Emmett and Jasper came flying into view as Edward leapt, the two wearing snarls just as enraged as the one belonging to their brother. They flew with the speed of three bullets, the bronze-haired angel at the lead. He threw his arms out when he was only a metre away, ready to close them around the throat of his prey.

With one last snarl, he swiped, right as the elf clicked his fingers.

A loud pop issued, and Edward closed his arms around empty air. I tried to push the suit of armour away—I wanted so much to be in his solid embrace, but I only had the use of one hand, which made things difficult.

His fiery eyes snapped to mine, two emeralds coated in flames. He sprung at lightening speed, throwing the statue to one side, unable to control his strength in his anger. It broke into several pieces as it smashed against the stone wall, breaking apart at the joints.

Kneeling down beside me, he pulled me into his arms, cradling my body tightly to his chest. His breathing was accelerated, his relief so great that, by all rights, it should have produced a mushroom cloud.

"Bella," he said, his velvet voice strained, "are you alright?"

Despite everything, I could honestly answer, "Yes."

Edward was safe. I was safe. For the moment, that was all that mattered.

"My hand—he broke it. Other than that I'm fine."

Footsteps announced the arrival of humans. I looked to the end of the corridor, just as Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, Professor Martin, and Madam Pomfrey came into view.

"Would someone explain to me what in the world is happening here?!" the headmistress cried. She stopped beside Carlisle and Esme, looking to the two older Cullens for an explanation.

"Bella was attacked," Edward announced without looking away from me.

"What?! By who?"

"I have no idea. The scent isn't one I recognise; plus, the … wizard—" he hissed as he said this, clearly summoning all his will power to prevent himself from cursing, "—was an Occlumens, and he was masked."

"Is there any—"

"Not yet," Edward all but snarled, cutting Kingsley's question short. "I want Bella seen to first before you start asking questions."

Madam Pomfrey rushed forwards then, setting to work on my broken hand. It took her only a second to fix it, so it wasn't long before I was retelling the story to the group.

"That's why he did this?" Carlisle asked confusedly, "Because he wanted you to tell Edward to stop trying to root out the leak?"

"But that doesn't make any sense," Jasper said, frowning.

"Why not?" I questioned. "Obviously he's scared that Edward will find out who he is. Maybe he thought that by threatening—"

"It doesn't fit," Professor Martin interrupted, agreeing with the other men. "Something's off here."

"Why?"

"Because according to you, this person was an Occlumens. Why would he go out of his way to stop this investigation if he knew your … boyfriend wouldn't be able to read him anyway? And if he was planning to leave straight afterwards, which, clearly, is what he was always going to have to do in order to stop his scent from being tracked, why bother at all?"

"So what are you saying?" I asked in panic. "That this guy was … was covering for somebody else?"

"It would seem that way," Kingsley stated flatly, his eyes glassy as he deliberated. "I can't think of any other likely explanation."

We fell into silence then, considering the gravity of our recent discovery and what it could mean.

"If this is true," Esme said suddenly, ending the quiet, "then the person he was trying to protect doesn't have the same skill that he and Bella share." Her eyes connected with Edward's then, who shook his head in response to some unspoken question.

"I've found nothing. Unless the accomplice is particularly good at control their thoughts, no one here tonight is cursed."

"Are we even sure the two are connected?" asked Rosalie, subsequently receiving a number of confused gazes. "Think about it. Maybe this person just seriously hates vampires. Maybe he despises us so much that he simply couldn't stand by knowing that Edward had so much power over him and the other guests. If that were the case, then it _would _be possible that the informant was here tonight. If the two aren't connected, then there's still a chance that an Occlumens is the one that's been cursed."

Emmett looked sceptical. "Attacking a student though? Would've been a bit of a strong reaction for something like that, wouldn't it?"

"Would it? That Brone character didn't seem as if he'd agree."

"Brone would never do this," Kingsley insisted, standing a little straighter. "However he feels about vampires, he would never harm an innocent witch."

"Are you sure about that?" Alice whispered menacingly, her expression dark.

"Yes. Doing so would undermine everything he believes in."

The strength of the haze surrounding me set my eyes prickling. Each vampire was experiencing a dozen of different emotions simultaneously, worry mixing with anger and love, one so colossal that it set my head spinning. I'd already felt it from Edward, Alice and Rosalie, and I'd guessed before how strongly Carlisle and Esme felt, but I was surprised at how completely Emmett and Jasper's feelings matched the others, excluding Edward's, of course, whose aura seemed to shine more brightly than all of them put together.

_We should have been here to stop it, _Emmett snarled mentally. _If this guy ever crosses paths with me again, I'm going to rip him to pieces._

_ He thought he could hurt a Cullen and get away with it?! _I flinched at Jasper's thoughts, shocked by the content, though overwhelmingly grateful. _Alice's sister! My sister! When I find this bastard, I'm going to make him wish he was never born!_

A gasp suddenly broke through my lips, whilst tears began cascading down my cheeks. Edward must've been too stressed to think about searching his empathic brother's mind. He didn't seem to realise which emotions were fuelling the waterworks. He must've thought that the trauma brought on by the attack was the trigger, because one arm snaked beneath my knees, the other around my shoulders, before he scooped me up off the floor.

"I'm taking Bella back," he announced to the others. Both Kingsley and I started to protest, but he wouldn't have it. "Minister, as much as I want to help you, I know exactly where my priorities lie. Nothing you can say will change my mind. I'm done for the night."

"But we still—"

"I said I'm done." And with the way Edward spoke, a deadly undertone hidden in the velvet folds, the Minister did not argue. "You can take it up with Professor McGonagall. She has a few things to say to you, and I don't think she's going to be able to wait much longer."

I had to agree with that; beneath her controlled façade, the headmistress was seething.

After exchanging one last glance with the two, Edward strode away down the corridor, so gentle in his movements that I was never jostled once. When we were halfway towards the door at the end of the hall, he called back over his shoulder, speaking at a volume the Minister would hear. "I'll be in touch."

Edward accelerated into a sprint after we'd exited onto the Grand Staircase, shooting up the levels like a rocket, ignoring Gryffindor tower as he raced onwards to the seventh floor.

As soon as we had entered the Room of Requirement, he placed me on my feet, and encased me in a long, tight embrace. He seemed to need the contact even more than I did, and even a blind man would have been able to see just how badly the assault had shaken him.

After a few minutes, he eased me back by my shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes as he did so.

"I hate this," he whispered. I felt my brow furrow at his words. "I hate being in the dark. I hate that I can't work out exactly why this happened."

"That's why it's called a mystery," I said softly, hoping to cheer him up a little. "It takes time to unravel the truth. We'll understand it eventually."

There was a moment's pause before he spoke again, but when he did, his expression was hard. "Bella, why didn't you call me sooner?"

I sighed. "It wasn't exactly possible at the time. Occlumency isn't like a light switch, Edward. It takes a lot of concentration to magically alter the mind, and when you're locked in a battle, making yourself vulnerable isn't easy to do. Every instinct screams against it."

It was his turn to sigh this time. "I guess I knew that," he admitted. "I just wish I could've gotten there sooner."

"Don't beat yourself up," I told him, reaching up to touch his face. "No one was expecting this, and its not as if there's any lasting damage."

"I'm not so sure about that." A tiny smile played at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if Professor McGonagall ended up murdering Kingsley tonight."

I grinned widely, hoping to ease Edward out of his current depression. It didn't really work; his aura throbbed with grey-blue energy at the edges, and I could taste his chalky disappointment on my tongue. He'd wanted me to have a good time, but, yet again, the party had been disrupted by chaos and pain.

I was disappointed too, because I'd wanted the night to be a success for him. It angered me that anyone had dared to try and spoil it.

Inhaling determinedly, I closed my eyes and pivoted on my heels, my thoughts filled with one particular image and an accompanying mental chant.

_We need a wireless for music. We need a wireless for music. We need a wireless for music._

Peeping through slits, I saw that the room had answered my request, and had conjured a radio, which it placed on the table beside the petal-scattered bed.

"Perfect!"

"What are you doing?" Edward asked as I crossed the room to turn it on.

The first thing that came on was a rock tune by The Weird Sisters called _Amortentia. _I changed the channel quickly, trying to find something softer. The next station I found was pro-yodelling. I changed the channel again, satisfied when a soft, acoustic melody filled the room. After increasing the volume, I turned back to Edward.

He was smiling widely now, shaking his head. "You really have done a one-eighty. I feel as if I've been sucked into a parallel dimension."

I grimaced; was I really that bad?

I walked back to where he was standing, ready for him to lead me once again. He held up a finger though, just as I was about to place my hand on his shoulder, stepping away and closing his eyes. Only three seconds had passed when he opened them, turning his head towards the Northern wall.

Standing against it was an ornately carved wardrobe made from ebony wood. A vine design ran along the panels, each leaf different in size and shape.

Edward strolled over to it, pulling open the two large doors, and took out a small pile of folded clothes.

"Here," he said, handing me a oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats. I smiled widely as I took them.

He turned away from me as I went to undress, playing the gentleman as usual. The only reason why I didn't comment on it was because I knew how easily the two of us could get carried away. It wouldn't have bothered me at all if he'd watched me changed. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd have seen me in just my underwear; but we were both here alone tonight, and the temptation would just have been unbearable.

I hung up my dress whilst Edward changed his own clothes. It took him less than five seconds. When I twirled back to look at him, he was wearing a pair of grey sweats, just like mine, and a white vest.

After transferring the Newton Ball into my pyjama pocket, I walked slowly towards him, placing one hand in his, and the other on his shoulder.

The room decided it was time to dim the lights, determined as usual to give us a romantic atmosphere. The candles in the chandelier above burned out in the same moment, so that only the glow of the fire and the light issuing from a few small candles were left behind.

Edward and I moved through the music like fish trapped in a current, gracefully following the flow with each passing song. I didn't feel the need to speak as we danced; I was too busy marvelling at his beauty to attempt to form sentences.

I was so in awe that I barely heard the words of the songs that were played. The people could have been singing in another language entirely and I wouldn't have noticed. There was, however, one that did catch my attention.

The radio presenter, appropriately, announced Nyx's latest track: _The Immortals_. It was nothing like their other songs, most of which were blatantly obvious in their use of topics relating to magic. The titles, for example, had included: _Phoenix Love, Unforgivably Cursed, _and _Vixen Veela._

_The Immortals _was different; it could've been sung in Muggle company and wouldn't particularly have caused confusion. It started of with a haunting violin intro, opening up the melody for the other instruments, all of which were added gradually as the song unfolded. Alfie's voice called out in slow sad tones, seeming to pierce my heart with his meaningful lyrics.

_ Two ol' souls are we, lost somewhere in time._

_ I travelled through the years for you,_

_ I walked a lonely line,_

_ And all the while, the world was laughing_

_ Singing songs of love._

_ Stars were shining for each other_

_ In the spheres above._

_ Oh, my darling, where are you? Where are you?_

_ Dear beloved, where are you? Where are you?_

_ Suddenly, one day, I spied you in the cold,_

_ Staring back through ice and rain,_

_ Trapped in Winter's hold._

_ 'Oh, sweet angel!' you wept aloud,_

_ Calling out to me,_

_ 'My heart is caged in sorrow._

_ Won't you set it free?'_

_ Oh my darling, I found you. I found you._

_ Dear beloved, I found you. I found you._

The tone slowly began to evolve, the sadness in the singer's voice morphing into triumph.

_ And now the stars are falling. _

_ Their fire is burning out,_

_ Yet you and I still stand here._

_ No cold. No pain. No doubt._

_ Our Summer is immortal, like the hands of time._

_ I'll be yours forever more_

_ Just promise you'll be mine._

_ Oh, my darling, I love you. I love you._

_ Dear beloved, I love you. I love you._

_ I love you._

The song ended then, finishing on a very poignant note. Edward and I came to a stop, my arms moving to circle his neck, whilst his did the same with my waist.

Despite everything, I would not have traded tonight if I could have. As my vampire fiancé lowered his lips to mine, the soft pink haze exploding through the room and filling me up, all I could think was: _this is why we're here._

I shot up with a sharp gasp, my heart pounding like a hammer against my ribcage, whilst tiny beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. Throwing my eyes one direction after another, I tried to work out where the hell I was.

Memories came slowly despite my panic, but I eventually realised that I was still in the Room of Requirement with Edward. I should have relaxed upon sensing his presence. I should have been comforted by the closeness of his icy skin, which provided a rather pleasant cure to the stifling heat of the fire.

But I wasn't.

I wasn't, and I had no idea why. All I knew was that I was as scared as hell … more so than I had ever been in my life.

**EPOV**

After the recent attack on Bella, I hadn't felt much like sleeping. My mind was trapped in pandemonium, one image dominating my thoughts more than any other: the man in the porcelain mask, the top half of his face concealed from view, the lower pink and glistening, covered in blood and a thin film of bodily slime, the protruding blue veins throbbing as anger forced the blood to mover faster within them.

There were screams accompanying this image—Bella's screams, which echoed in my head longer after the horror had ended.

Our dance in the Room of Requirement had soothed me temporarily, the wonder of Bella's beauty overriding all my other thoughts. It had to end at some point though. Bella was human, and she needed her rest. I, on the other hand, was a vampire, and my mind never tired. I had things to consider—a mystery to unravel, and sleeping was only going to slow me down.

Bella had protested as I'd set vial containing the Sleeping Draught down on the bedside table, insisting that I needed to escape reality for a few hours … to get away from the bad things.

"You'll be able to look at it all with a clearer perspective if you take a beak. Right now, you're still livid—I can feel it, and that's hardly going to help you figure it out."

After a little more persuasion, she'd managed to convince me. It hadn't taken long. Waking up next to Bella was one of the best feelings in the world; being with her in dreams was another. Taking a generous swig of the potion, I settled down beside her, and waited for sleep to take me.

My dreams followed their regular pattern at first: Bella skipping into view to join me, rushing forth with her shiny red apple. I swept her up in my arms, swinging her round in my happiness to see her. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her smile touching her warm chocolate eyes.

"Quick. Eat," she said, offering me her fruit.

"Someone's impatient," I chuckled.

She arched an eyebrow, pausing, before jumping out of my arms and ambling away. "Well, if you don't want it …" She trailed off teasingly, and I shot forwards like a lightening bolt, spinning her round in the blink of an eye and plunging my teeth through the tempting bloody membrane.

And then the world turned to ecstasy, the two of us folded in the shadowy velvet of the midnight sky, laying in clouds beneath beautiful spacial nebula, the arms of pink and purple gas illuminated by nearby galaxies and the millions of twinkling stars making up the Milky Way. If there had ever been a place to symbolise the heaven I was experiencing, this would be it.

Her skin shone like pearl in the silver light, shimmering as she arch under my touch. She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen, every inch of her revealed before me, no shielding fabric to prevent my full appreciation of her body.

I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck as my arms wound beneath her shoulders. Her fingers trailed lightly along my spine, pressing down every few seconds, the pressure entirely dependant upon the strength of my own movements. The harder she pressed, the more crushing my desire for her became.

I growled into her ear as her legs snaked around my lower back, clenching with pleasure, driving my need to new heights. The air was alive with the most beautiful song as I picked up my pace, the sound of my Bella's voice echoing into the nights.

As the minutes passed, those cries grew louder … more urgent, their intensity changing like the bang of a firework. Loud. And then louder. Louder still. Too loud, now. Much too loud. Horrible, blood-curdling screams that squeezed at my heart, which pumped the agony to every corner of my body.

My eyes flew open in an instant. I was no longer in heaven; I was in hell. The world around me was an endless space of nothing, Bella's shrieks of pain and fear calling out to me from somewhere beyond oblivion.

"EDWARD! EDWARD!"

"BELLA!" I cried back, my eyes flying in every direction.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"BELLA! BELLA, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"EDWARD! THEY'RE COMING!"

_Coming? Who's coming?! Where's Bella?! Who's hurting her?!_

"THEY'RE COMING!" she screamed again. "THEY'RE COMING TO KILL US!"

Sobbing in the dark, overcome by sheer panic, I threw my mind outwards, reaching for the thoughts of anyone nearby. Hundreds of images flashed before my eyes: someone riding a unicorn around a race track, girls and boys exchanging innocent kisses, the Chudley Cannons' captain lifting the British Quidditch League Cup … all mostly happy, none particularly threatening or dark, until …

_"We should just go! We shouldn't delay!"_

"_You'll do as you're told, Ranulf," a man in black Death Eater robes snapped. "We wait for the signal."_

_ Ranulf looked round the room, jumping as a floorboard creaked somewhere nearby._

_ "Calm down, you damn idiot! It's just Halden!"_

_ The man named Halden sneered. "Scared, are we Ranulf?"_

_ "No! I just want to get on with it! There's a hundred little girlies up there with my name on them. You promised me if I agreed to come you'd see to it that I—"_

_ "You'll get your prize, dog," the masked Death Eater promised, "but only if we do this right. There's no point rushing in until everyone has gone to bed. Then, after we've killed Potter, you can have all the meat you want. Why don't you take his Mudblood friend, Granger? She's played a big part in getting us into this mess in the first place." _

_ The Death Eater began to fantasise then, visions of Harry and Hermione splayed out on the floor, their blood spilling freely from sliced jugulars, their eyes staring upwards, unseeing._

_ "Don't worry, Rodolphus," another man said. "We'll have our revenge."_

_ Ranulf scoffed, "Revenge for what? Bellatrix? You didn't even love her. Your marriage was just a convenience and a means to increase your status."_

_ "SHUT UP!" Rodolphus bellowed, aiming a curse at Ranulf. The muscular man, who wore a rather dense expression, dropped to the floor in an instant, thrashing in pain as the Cruciatus Curse was performed on him "You need to learn your place, Halfbreed. You are here for one reason, and one reason only. To keep us out of the eye of the Psychic. Do not assume that because you wear Death Eater robes that you are an equal!"_

_ Rodolphus lowered his wand then, looking down upon the panting man on the floor. _

_ Another masked man joined him at his side, and said, "Bellatrix was a fierce warrior. We all appreciated that, which is why we'll avenge her and everyone else who fought for the cause, most importantly, the Dark Lord himself._

_ "On top of that, we're fugitives now. Unless we plan on fleeing the Ministry for the rest of our lives, our only option is to reclaim the power we once possessed. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to get to the stage we did last time, and have Potter come to rip it all away again. We finish him tonight, and then the world will know we're back to stay."_

_ There must have been about twenty minds in the room, one which could only have belonged to the Shrieking Shack. Every single one of them was filled with the image of Harry's face, their thoughts fearful as they prepared themselves to kill him._

Fear gripped me like it never had before. I was pinned down in an inescapable nightmare, aware of the pressing danger coming for the students, completely and utterly unable to warn anyone.

Suddenly, a voice—not the same kind as those I'd just heard, but one which was distant, as if it was calling to me from the end of a tunnel—echoed through the blackness.

"Edward?!" the faint voice cried, overcome by sheer panic. "Edward! It's just a nightmare! Whatever you're seeing, it's not real!"

Bella? Only a second had passed before I was screaming her name at the top of my lungs, desperate for her to hear me, knowing all too well that it was no use.

"BELLA! THEY'RE COMING! THE DEATH EATERS ARE COMING!" I screamed in horror, terrified that they would find her … terrified for my family … my friends, drowning in a well hopelessness.

"It's just a nightmare," Bella's voice called again, trying to soothe me.

I wanted to scream. I did scream. If only there'd been some way for me to communicate with her …

I blinked as a memory hit me suddenly, a tiny hope flickering to life in my chest.

Bella, who clearly still had Empatheia in her system, misread that small spark. When she spoke again, it was a gentle croon. "Just a nightmare."

There was no moment of hesitation as she fell silent. Immediately, I launched into the space from where her voice sounded, pulling back once, before slamming against the walls of her mind once again.

A few seconds passed where nothing happened. I waited, completely frozen, my dead heart in my mouth, praying that Bella would understand.

Suddenly …

_Edward?_

My face swam before my eyes, the peaceful surface masking the turmoil within. Bella placed had her hand on my cheek, and I felt the tingle as she stroked it.

_Yes!_

_ It's not real. I promise you're safe. We're in the Room of Requirement. It's not real!_

_ NO! _I told her, and then whispered to myself, _You're wrong._

She froze then, awareness creeping up her spine, finally sensing that something truly wasn't right.

_Danger? _she questioned fearfully.

_YES!_

My aura still pulsed with fear, now a vivid scarlet. She ignored that though, inhaling the violet swiftly, allowing me to show her the terrible horror preparing to invade Hogwarts.

_The Death Eaters were still waiting in the Shrieking Shack, Harry's face continuing to dominate their thoughts. They sat in complete silence, each anticipating the murder they would soon perform._

_ NO! _Bella screamed mentally, her fear escalating like my own.

_Suddenly, a hooded figure ran into the room, alerting the others immediately._

_ "It's time," he announced. "I've just seen it__—__red sparks in the tunnel!"_

_ Everyone rose to their feet in an instant, extracting their wands from their pockets. They didn't exchange any further words, but simply moved towards the secret passage, leaving the shack in their march towards the school._

**A/N: Okily dokily! Sorry to those of you who felt uncomfortable during zi love scene. I was blushing ten shades of red whilst writing it. Still, what irritates me more than anything is when there's no follow-through, no matter what the context. I tried to ensure that it wasn't overly graphic, just descriptive enough to convey Edward's thoughts. The reason I put it in there is because the ride is getting a little bumpier. I don't think he's going to be too thrilled about sleeping after this, so it's farewell to dream Bella for a while.**

** Hope you enjoyed it. All reviews are appreciated. Thank you.**


	18. The Lioness

**A/N: IMPORTANT! I made a mistake in the last chapter, and got one of the names of the Death Eaters muddled. Rabastan Lestrange wasn't Bellatrix's husband; he was her brother-in-law. Rodolphus Lestrange was her husband. I've corrected the mistake.**

** Other than that, thanks so much for all your reviews and continued support. As ever, it's extremely motivating. I hope you enjoy… **

** EPOV**

The passage leading from the Shrieking Shack was damp and dark. Roots hung down from the rocky ceiling, brushing the heads of the Death Eaters as they made their way along the subterranean corridor. Rodolphus Lestrange and his brother, Rabastan, led the way, followed closely by Rookwood and Crabbe, the last of whom held thoughts for only his dead son and bloody revenge.

_ Vincent burned because of them … Now they shall too. _Faces flashed through his mind, every single one of them screaming as they were engulfed by dragon and snake-shaped flames.

Bella whimpered, frozen in place by sheer horror. She realised then, as I did, what this could mean for my brothers and sisters. They would be sleeping … unable to escape … burned alive by Fiendfyre.

_What do we do?! What do we do?! Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rose …_

The Death Eaters reached the end of the tunnel, and exited out into the cold, open air. The arms of the Whomping Willow didn't move to attack them. A shadowy figure to the left had seen to that, having used a charm upon a broken twig, which was now pressed to a small knot half way up the great trunk.

The mystery person turned slightly to look at the others. The light of the moon reflected off a pair of thick spectacles, and set the sequinned-covered robes twinkling, as if they belonged to some oversized nocturnal insect.

_What?! _thought Bella. _What is she …_

Professor Trelawney wore a very vacant expression, her eyes seeming unfocused as they travelled over the file of dark wizards.

_She must have been Imperiused, _Bella concluded, _but by who? Someone at the ball?_

"There's no time for that now!" I tried to shout to her. It was useless though; my words couldn't escape the nightmare any more than I could.

The Death Eaters didn't react much to the teacher, whose thoughts were far more peaceful than I'd ever heard them, her mind completely free of responsibility and worry. The sight of the invaders striding away from her filled her with a euphoric satisfaction. She remained at her station as they marched up towards the castle, too content to mind the frosty air biting at her human skin.

_We have to warn the others! _Bella told me mentally. _We have to get there before they do!_

The Death Eaters were almost at the front door though. There was no way Bella would be able to get to the common room and evacuate all the students before they reached it. The moment she realised this, she snatched her wand from the bedside table, filling her thoughts with one shining joyous memory: the two of us in our meadow, declaring ourselves.

_And so the lion fell in love with the lamb._

Eight bursts of blinding white light blasted suddenly from the tip of her wooden weapon, all forming individual lion Patronuses, which charged immediately from the room. The second they were out of sight, Bella cried, "I need light!"

The logs in the fireplace instantly erupted into flames, the towering orange flares exploding over the wood, all reaching for the chimney flue.

"Accio Newton Ball!" The wardrobe doors slammed open as the small metallic sphere came soaring through the air towards us. Bella held out her palm for it, stashing it immediately into her pyjama pocket.

_I have to go, Edward._

_ NO! _I practically screamed at her. "You have no shield!"

_I have to._

The two extra prods I sent crashing into her mental block weren't enough to change her mind. She felt my distress multiply tenfold at her words though, and that was precisely what determined her next move.

With a flick of her wand, she conjured a long wooden stretcher, which appeared directly next to me on the bed. Kneeling at my side, she shoved at me with all the strength her muscles could muster, cursing mentally as her small body struggled with my vampiric weight. The strain was only to be expected, of course. My substance was composed entirely from some hard and heavy unidentifiable compound. Even Alice, regardless of her size, would have been heavier than the largest human here.

Once she'd finally managed to shift me onto the stretcher, Bella charmed it into the air, tying me in place with magical ropes, which she placed around my neck, midriff, knees, and ankles. Then, using magic to send me into a vertical position—my toes now pointing to the floor—she ran behind her makeshift shield towards the door, her pulse pounding in her ears, sending the blood and adrenaline crashing through her veins.

I searched for Harry's voice as we turned out into the corridor.

He was dreaming about Quidditch…_ rocketing through the sky on his Firebolt, his hand reaching out for the darting Snitch. It flew straight up into the air, climbing higher and higher towards the clouds. Harry followed it up, squinting against the sun, which grew brighter and brighter as it beat down against his face. Brighter … brighter … blinding now__—_

He jerked forwards suddenly, his eyes snapping open to an ethereal silvery-white light. The silence was total, save for the sound of his heaving chest and frantic heart, eerie and frightening against the quiet, stationary lion.

In the next bed, Ron was sitting tensely too, reaching for his wand in his sleepy confusion.

"They're coming," said the Patronus, Bella's voice ringing clearly through the air. "The Death Eaters are coming! They want Harry! They want revenge! Gryffindor must evacuate, before it burns! Get the Cullens out! Do it now!"

There was one brief moment of silence as the glowing, white lion faded away, before the dormitory erupted with horrified shouts and cries of panic.

On the other side of the tower, another lion was dissolving. The girls were screaming frantically, just like the boys, jumping out of their beds in terror.

"Help me lift them out!" Ginny ordered, sliding a hand under Alice's body.

_Oh no! Oh no! No, no, no! _were Hermione's internal cries. _Not again! Not again! _Her thoughts filled with Fred's face as she and Lavender helped their friend to lift my sister off the bed.

"What now?!" screamed Parvati in question, buckling under the pressure.

Ginny cast her eyes about the room, her mind sharpened with adrenaline. After precisely two seconds, she shouted, "Smash the window! Quickly!"

With a flick of Parvati's wand, the glass exploded outwards, the shards tumbling out of view in a dangerous, glistening shower. The girl's wasted no time, darting forwards as quickly as they could manage under the weight of the heavy, vampire statue, thrusting her out over the stone sill, and sending her crashing down through the howling wind and torrential rain, towards the solid, unyielding earth.

"Won't that hurt her?!" Parvati panicked.

"Are you kidding?!" answered Hermione. "She's a vampire! I'd be more worried about the ground!"

The girls did the same thing with Rosalie, throwing her outside into the night air. I winced as her thoughts invaded my mind. The second her body connected with the ground, her happy dream began morphing into something horrible, one where old nightmares were brought back to life, the evil figures kicking and clawing furiously at her limbs … ravaging her.

_HELP! _my sister shrieked in terror. _SOMEBODY HELP ME!_

I closed my arms around my chest, trying to suppress the nausea, which seemed entirely possible for vampires in the dream world. I quickly got it together though, and blocked the vile images from my mind, understanding that there was a greater concern at present.

The boys had had the same idea as the girls, smashing one of the windows to get my brothers to safety.

Bella breathed a sigh of relief as the Empatheia, along with my violet aura, showed her that my siblings were out of immediate danger. The heightened fear and anxiety, however, quickly removed that short lived emotion.

She forced me forwards with increasing speed, her muscles pumping faster in her desperation. We had just turned onto the final corridor leading to the Grand Staircase, when an alarmed voice sounded from behind.

"Bella, I got your message!" the Headmistress cried, sprinting to meet us, her hair and tartan dressing gown billowing out behind her, wand at the ready. "Is it true? Are they here?"

"Yes, it's true," the girl spoke quickly, taking in the information I was feeding her. "They've just forced their way into the Entrance Hall. The doors refused to open for them, and—"

"How do you know this?"

"There's no time to explain it now!" Bella declared urgently, her voice shrill with fear. "I promise I'll tell you later, but for the moment, can you please just trust me on this?"

The older witch didn't hesitate in her reply; she nodded immediately, accepting her student's words, before resuming her sprint along the corridor, her expression fierce as she prepared herself for battle. She was so consumed by the present danger that she didn't even think to inquire as to why Bella had me strapped to a wooden plank. Then again, I didn't need to read her thoughts to know she was fully aware of how my skin reacted to spells. She must've guessed that I was the defence. I didn't bother to check; my mind was busy elsewhere.

Whilst the two continued their race, I kept watch on Gryffindor tower, terrified for its inhabitants. Hermione, Ginny and the other girls were running from dorm to dorm, screaming the sleepers into wakefulness, panic and chaos spreading with each disturbance.

Whilst the other boys did the same, Harry and Ron took a different approach. Together, they charged at the girls' staircase, making it a few metres up before it magically transformed. The forbidden action triggered the piercing siren, which resonated through the room at an ear-splitting volume, rousing those who were not already awake.

After sliding back down into the common room, Ron ran again at the steps, this time jumping into the air, his legs and arms flinging out to wedge against the walls, once again triggering the alarm, and transforming the steps into a steep, stone slide.

With the horrible sound echoing through the tower, the students quickly began surging into the main area, every mind now a maelstrom of fright and confusion. The girls slid down one after the other in a constant stream, the process accelerated thanks to the boys' quick thinking.

The common room was filled with questioning screams, no one seeming to know who they should be demanding answers from.

"WE'VE GOT TO GET OUT!" Harry cried over the clamour, provoking an instant silence. "The school's under threat! Death Eaters are coming! We've got to—"

"Go to the Room of Requirement," McGonagall interrupted, crying her orders through the now open portrait hole. "Anybody of age may stand and fight! Everyone else upstairs! Now!"

And with that, she rocketed away, Bella at her side.

The Death Eaters were on the fourth floor now, flying upwards towards their target.

_Going to kill, _Crabbe thought excitedly, running ahead of the others. _Wait—what's that? _

The noise of dozens of storming feet reverberated down the levels, alerting him and the other Death Eaters to the movement through the castle. They halted at the sound, surprise and confusion filling their minds, looking up in search of an explanation … just in time to see the fireball hurtling down towards them.

"DIVE!" screamed Rodolphus, throwing himself onto the next set of steps.

Although most of the other Death Eaters managed to evade the attack, one man wasn't so lucky, and failed to get out of the spell's path in time.

His cries of agony sounded up the staircase as the flames ravaged his clothes and body, the mental wails just as loud as the verbal ones.

_ PAIN! BURNING! PAIN! FIRE! HEEEEEEELP!_

He thrashed hysterically from side to side, waving his arms at his allies, endangering them with his careless, blazing dance.

The Death Eaters didn't waste time on their burning comrade, selfishly concerned with their own safety.

"Sorry, brother," Rookwood apologised, before aiming a spell at his friend, sending him hurtling back over the railing to fall to his death.

The intruders didn't have time to linger, for another burst of fire came flying down towards them. None of them were hurt this time though. Rodolphus shot a Killing Curse up towards his opponent; Professor Flitwick jumped back from his position, narrowly escaping the deadly flash of green light.

"YOU EVIL HELLIONS!" McGonagall screeched at them, firing a rain of daggers from her weapon. Rodolphus reacted instantly with a swish of his wand, turning the projectiles into bubbles as he led the others swiftly upwards and launched into the fifth floor corridor.

"They knew we were coming!" Ranulf cried, once they were all through the door. "How did they know we were coming?! You said—"

"I DON'T KNOW, WEREWOLF!" Rodolphus snarled in reply. "I don't know how they found out, but we're here now, so it doesn't matter!" His eyes darted from one member of the group to the next as he continued. "We have to separate. It's the only way we'll stand a chance. They have the higher ground, so as long as we remain grouped, they'll pick us off with ease.

"We'll have to lure them down, and the only way to do that is to attack the lower areas of the castle!"

"Hufflepuff," offered a masked man on the left. "The Carrows discovered its whereabouts, along with location of the other houses, after they were appointed as teachers. It's in the dungeons, near the kitchens."

"Very well," nodded Rookwood, taking over from Rodolphus. "Selwyn, you'll take Travers, Rowle, Nott, and Jugson to Hufflepuff and attempt to penetrate it. Avery, you head to Slytherin, with—"

"Slytherin?! You'd have us kill those of our own house?"

"I'd have you kill those who failed our house," Rookwood spat, his tone murderous as his thoughts filled with the faces of the Malfoys. "Dolohov, Macnair, and Ranulf: you go with him. Kill Draco. That should be a lesson to his traitorous parents! They abandoned us in the most crucial hour, and for that they were pardoned! Draco. Take him out. That's an order. The rest of you, find a position on the staircase and stick to it!"

And with that, he led them back out onto the stairs, firing Killing Curses all the while.

Bella ducked behind my body as one flew her way, the jet of green light reflecting off my hard skin, blasting against one of the canvases.

The scribe in the frame jumped just in time, knocking over his lordly friend in the next painting along. The pair screamed a string of abuse at the Death Eaters below, shaking their fists in anger.

"They're trying to lure us down!" Bella called over the racket, addressing the teachers and the gathering students. "One group's going to attack Hufflepuff, and the other is going after Draco Malfoy!"

_What?! _"They can't!" cried Lavender. "We have to stop this!" _Before they get to Bayle!_

Infuriated and terrified now, the Gryffindor girl blasted a spell at the enemies below, missing them by inches. It hit the stone rail, against which one was leaning, shattering the rock to rubble. The unfortunate man lost his balance as his support vanished, and tumbled over the edge before his friends could save him, shrieking as he plummeted.

Nott glared up at Lavender, his expression furious, before he broke into malicious laughter. "It's too bad you made your den so high, girly! Maybe I'll have better luck next time. For now, I'll settle for Hufflepuff! Got any friends there?"

"You'll do no such thing!" McGonagall screech, blasting another fireball at the targets. They were expecting it though, and avoided it easily.

_The bait's set, _thought Rodolphus. "GO!"

A third of the Death Eaters broke away, casting shields above their heads as they descended, whilst the rest remained on the Grand Staircase, taking position in doorways, where they stood the best chance of defending themselves.

"We've got to force them back into the corridors!" Professor Martin declared, throwing a Stunner over the railing. "It's the only way we'll be able to get down!"

"No problem," called Seamus, his voice loaded with relish as he and Dean pushed their way through the crowd, carrying a Weasley stamped rocket. Seamus cupped his mouth with one hand, leaning over the railing to issue a command. "PORTRAIT PEOPLE! UP TO THE SEVENTH FLOOR!"

Chaos spread through the paintings as the men and women dashed to safety.

"Oh, my painting! My painting!" cried the Fat Lady as she darted from one frame to another. Her voice filled with wicked pleasure as she called back to the ranks. "Light them up, Mr Finnigan! Aim for their rumps—those hairy, beastly rumps!"

The other portrait people displayed similar reactions, some flapping madly, distraught for their soon to be destroyed canvases, others hissing and jeering at the black-robed figures they passed.

No matter what their reaction, they all cheered as Seamus aimed the great firework at the three nearest Death Eaters. He held it steady as Dean lit the fuse. The second the spark made contact with the container, the thing shot forwards at incredible speed, emitting a tale of golden stars, heading straight for the evil foes.

Ron, fully aware of how Wildfire Whiz-Bangs reacted to certain charms, fired a Vanishing Spell right at it, causing it to multiply by ten, its clones firing off in all different directions, creating even more colourful missiles whenever they collided.

"AAAAARGH!" the Death Eaters screamed in unison, leaping back into the corridors, slamming their doors behind them.

The air exploded with a dozen thunderous booms, hundreds of different colours, ranging all the way from vivid scarlet to royal purple, painting the Grand Staircase with beautiful, vibrant images, including a red rose, a fairy covered with green, sparkling vines, and a beautiful golden phoenix, which burst into flames mid air and crumbled to dust. A number of canvases caught fire with the collisions, the shade of the flames corresponding precisely with that of the flares crashing against them.

"NOW!" McGonagall commanded as the last fire-flower dissipated.

The students and professors of Hogwarts surged immediately with the order, Bella sprinting at the head, pushing us both down the stairs as fast as possible. She tore past the doors concealing the Death Eaters, her priority now the endangered students living in the castle's belly. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed after her, as did Lavender, Neville, Parvati, Seamus and Dean, whilst the headmistress and other teachers launched off to the sides.

_"Reducto!" _Martin and Fulplume chorused, blasting a door off its hinges, the three Death Eaters hiding behind it resultantly sent crashing along the fifth floor corridor.

Professor McGonagall took the fourth floor corridor with Slughorn, whilst Flitwick shot into the third one unassisted, initiating a fight with two Death Eaters.

_Impedimenta! _one of the men called mentally, flicking his wand above his head like a scorpion strike, whilst his friend fired a Freezing Charm.

Flitwick instantly threw his arms in a wide arc, deflecting the two spells against either wall, the product of which was a resounding crack. Two sections of the corridor collapsed in the same moment, the stone giving way to a thunderous shower of rubble. After pointing his wand at the debris, the professor quickly swept it forwards, as if throwing a bowling ball, sending the large chunks of rock flying through the air.

One Death Eater was fortunate and cast a Shielding Charm in time, but the other received a bash to his left shoulder, temporarily crippled with the force of the hit.

I'd heard all about the tiny teacher's duelling abilities before, but seeing him so disadvantaged had initially filled me with dread. Now I realised how wrong I'd been to underestimate him. Finally satisfied with his ability, I threw my focus back to Bella.

_ Edward, I need to see Hufflepuff! None of us know how to get there!_

Responding to her request, I concentrated on locating the minds of the Death Eaters. One group was running along a dimly lit corridor, which I recognised as the dungeon level. Flying past a giant painting of a bowl of fruit, they headed straight for another canvas nearby, this too a still-life, depicting an enormous ale keg stood beside a tiny glass of mead.

Selwyn trained his gaze upon a small circular hole in the barrel's wood. To its left lay a large knot; he prodded it forcefully, before taking a step back.

"That wasn't very nice," came an unknown male voice, seeming to echo from within the barrel. "No need to be rough about it. A gentle stroke is all it—" The voice cut off abruptly, a big hazel eye now staring out through the hole in the keg, wide with fear.

"What do you want?" the mysterious person continued. "You're not welcome here! Leave this place!"

"Let us through," Selwyn ordered, his tone deadly.

"Not without the password!"

The Death Eater stroked the side of his face, pretending to deliberate. "Hmm … now that would create a bit of a problem for us. You see, we don't have the password."

The eye flicked from one man to the next, travelling over each individual, before jumping back to Selwyn.

"Either you let us in … or we force you to."

In the next second, the eye vanished, leaving the hole empty once more.

My mind jumped again.

_Eleanor Branstone was sat in the Great Hall, undergoing her O.W.L. Theory for Defence Against the Dark Arts, her arms frozen to the desk whilst everyone around her scribbled frantically on their papers … Professor Martin staring down his nose at her, arching an eyebrow condescendingly …_

_ Owen Cauldwell crept through an ancient crypt, entering suddenly into an enormous chamber stacked with gold, sapphires, emeralds, rubies, pearls …_

_ Bayle Wishart's was reliving his adventures from earlier hours, hiding in the trophy room with Lavender Brown, exchanging innocent kisses. Everything was quiet and peaceful, until …_

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

_ Huh?! _Bayle shot forwards, the movement even more faster and forceful than Harry's had been earlier, flying instantly into a sitting position.

"WAKE UP!" a young monk in a nearby portrait screamed, running through the frames decorating the circular dormitory, all of which displayed various wildlife, including birds nested in bushes, and badgers poking out from little burrows. His arms were raised above his head as he went, his hazel eyes nearly popping out of his skull. "DEATH EATERS ARE HERE! OUTSIDE THE COMMON ROOM! TRYING TO GET IN! WANDS OUT! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"

After passing through the last painting, accidentally stepping on a ferret's tail in the process, which consequently squeaked in pain, the distressed and hysterical man disappeared from view, possibly flitting to another dorm to warn the next group of sleepers.

The five boys there immediately launched from their yellow-quilted beds, grasping their weapons before flying at the wooden door, which was circular like a barrel top, similar to architecture you'd expect to find in a Tolkien story. As they sprinted out into the little underground tunnel, they saw younger boys further ahead exiting from a branching corridor.

After navigating the passageways, they soon poured through a circular arch into the common room—a wide space with a low ceiling, the floors and walls constructed completely from polished oak. A roaring fire was set into one wall, bathing the area, which was scattered with a number of comfortable looking arm chairs, in a gentle amber glow.

_How are we going to get out?! _panicked Hannah Abbott.

_ What are they going to do to us?! _Rose Zeller sobbed mentally.

_ Death Eaters?! Death Eaters?!_

Ernie Macmillan was sceptical. _Is this some kind of joke?_

_ They can't be here! They just can't be!_

A terrible ripping sound issued from the rounded portrait hole as the canvas covering it sliced in two, forcing the students into silence. As they watched in horror, a snake-like mask draped in a black hood suddenly forced its way through the tear, it's hungry dark eyes taking in the scene as it prepared to strike.

There was one moment of stillness, where no one dare move, or even breathe, and then …

Fire exploded through the air in a deadly golden jet, flying at the doomed, yellow hangings, the first casualties to be ravaged by the Fiendfyre.

The Death Eater cackled madly as the room erupted with a chorus of screams and wails. Now that his first task had successfully been completed, he shouted, "I hope you like it hot!"

With that, he pulled out, sprinting off with the others in the direction of Slytherin, no pity for those he'd just sentenced to death … those who would soon be burning alive.

Bella pumped her legs faster as the violent screams echoed through our thoughts … through the halls … carving themselves permanently into our memories.

I crouched into a ball in my black prison, my hands accomplishing nothing as they clamped over my ears. I could still hear those horrific, blood-curdling notes, along with the hissing of tears as they evaporated in the heat of the blaze.

The Gryffindors pelted into the corridor just in time to see the tail of black robes disappearing around a corner further ahead.

_NO!_

Lavender released a terrible cry of pain as she saw the flames blazing over the Hufflepuff entrance, amber vipers slithering out through the two foot gash in the painting.

I tried to keep the images of the fiery sea advancing on the children out of my head. I would've gouged my own eyes out if it would've done any good, but the thoughts of the students were far too loud, assaulting my exhausted mind with each passing second.

As they retreated towards the tunnels, the hellish shapes lunged through the room, snapping their jaws at the furniture, pouncing up at the cracking ceiling, and clawing their burning talons at the walls and floor, everything gradually crumbling into soot, or melting into steaming, black tar as a result of the ferocious heat. Thick, inky smoke polluted the air, making it increasingly difficult for the students to breathe.

Still, they cried loudly upon hearing the shouts issuing from the other side of the portrait.

"HEEEEEEEELP!" Ellis Beckett screamed wildly, a black haired first-year trembling in the arms of his older sister, who repeated his plea. "HELP US!"

A loud popping sound abruptly echoed through the air, yet again coming from somewhere beyond the portrait. The noise gave birth to more indecipherable cries, these undoubtedly released by Harry, who sounded as if he were begging someone.

_This is it, _Bayle thought, accepting his fate. He clutched a tiny, whimpering girl, who could only have been a first year, tightly to his chest, his last ember of hope finally reaching its end.

All of a sudden, an enormous golden chimera reared up out of the fiery waves, its jaws snapping open as it pushed off on its hind legs. With wings outstretched, it tore through the air, heading straight for its first human target: Bayle.

His eyes clenched shut reflexively, crushing the child in his arms closer still.

Without warning, a clap of thunder sounded deafeningly in his ears, the room seeming to tremble under the intense noise, whilst a brilliant white flash burned the backs of his eyelids. Confused, Bayle threw them open, his jaw dropping at the sight that met him.

There before him, their arms stretched out above their heads, as if frozen mid star-jump, stood a row of tiny, determined house-elves. The chimera, along with other Fiendfyre shapes, swiped ferociously at the little beings, becoming more and more enraged as their claws hit some kind of invisible barrier, unable to attack.

"HA HA HA HA HA!" the leader cackled manically, seeming almost exhilarated by the battle. "Master tells Kreacher to kill nasty fire! Kreacher will do as Master says! HA HA HA HA HA!"

And with that, they each fired two jets of electric-blue light directly from their palms, the laser-like magic crashing against the line of hissing flames, forcing them back in an instant. At first, the blaze lost little more than three metres, the amber spires still running strong. With each new attack, however, the spirited warriors seemed to drain more and more energy from the destructive threat, until finally, it flickered into non-existence, extinguished at last.

Only a second had passed before the grateful students were closing upon the elves, crying tears of titanic gratitude, all determined to hug or kiss some part of their heroes.

Lavender wasted no time, tearing through the remains of the portrait, one name repeated over and over in her mind.

Harry poked his head through after her, calling out to Kreacher, who was now being raised above the heads of the cheering Hufflepuffs like some kind of celebrity, the other fire-fighters enjoying similar treatment.

"Well done, Kreacher!" Harry told him.

Waving two blistered hands, the elf grinned joyously, presumably due to having pleased his master, though I suspected part of it was owing to the fact that he was currently the subject of so much adoration.

When I tried to locate the house-elf's 'mind', all I got were muddled sounds and unclear images, like those you'd get on a TV set with a bad reception. Whatever magic it was surrounding him, it was messing with my gift, so I hastily jumped back to Bella, my anxieties and fears spiking as I realised she was once again heading after the Death Eaters, still guiding my shielding body out ahead of her.

Harry's voice carried from behind as he passed instructions to Kreacher. "The enemies are still in the castle. We need to get the Hufflepuffs to safety! Gather the other house-elves and ask them to help you transport everyone here to St. Mungo's. Anyone seventeen or older can stay to fight if they want to."

"AYE-AYE, BRAVE MASTER!"

The noise of the common room faded as Bella rounded the corner, travelling at full speed, still directing my hovering body out before her. I could see from her unshielded thoughts that she was continuing to take advantage of the violet energy surrounding my head, watching, as I did, the events unfolding throughout the castle. Though the Empatheia was still in effect, it was beginning to weaken, and although the thoughts of the Death Eaters continued coursed through Bella's head, they were growing more and more distant now.

The sound of footfalls announced the presence of others. A glance to her right told her that Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry had caught up with her. Bayle appeared on her left with Lavender. Others too could be heard from behind, but I didn't have time to find out who they were; I was too busy focusing on the Slytherin common room for that.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Avery demanded angrily, grabbing Blaise by his vest. His expression was furious, his face unmasked now, just like those of his comrades.

"I-I … I don't know," Blaise stammered.

The other Slytherins stood crowding the common room, all having been woken from their beds. They formed a wide semi-circle as they gazed on at the puzzling scene, some nervously shifting their weight from foot to foot, others wringing the sleeves of their pyjamas. None of the students seemed particularly afraid by the presence of the Death Eaters, which I suppose was fairly understandable, all things considered, but they couldn't grasp why these men would come bothering _them._

_ But we're Slytherin, _thought Malum Maugraine. _Surely they should be breaking into Gryffindor instead?_

Avery shook Blaise once more, growing angrier by the second. "Don't lie to me, boy! I know you're his friend!"

"If you hadn't spent so much time trying to guess the password," Selwyn hissed, pacing back and forth, "we'd have him by now!"

His gaze snapped to the massive rounded hole he'd blasted through the sliding rock wall—the one which, until recently, had concealed Slytherin House. Apparently, Avery hadn't thought to take down the obstacle like his friend, who had arrived later after seeing to the Hufflepuffs.

"Shut your mouth!"

"Don't!" Selwyn warned, pointing his wand at his comrade's head, who almost jumped a mile in surprise, letting go of Blaise in the process. "Don't you think you can speak to me like that, Avery! You are _not _my master."

He turned his weapon then on the trembling boy, his voice level, yet deadly. "_Where _is Draco?"

Blaise didn't seem to be able to find his tongue. His eyes flicked in the direction of the dormitories though, before moving back to the wand pointing directly between his eyes.

_So, he's hiding away somewhere, _Avery concluded. _He must've known we'd come for him eventually._

"W-what are you going to do?" Pansy stuttered as the two Death Eaters marched away towards the boy's corridor, the others staying behind to guard the students.

Selwyn chuckled. "What do _you _think?"

Now terrified for the reformed Slytherin, I searched for his frightened mind.

_They want me. That's why they're here! Because Mum lied to _him _when he asked if Potter was dead … because her and Dad were more interested in saving me than pleasing the Dark Lord … because we hoped in the end he'd lose! They're coming to kill me. They want me dead!_

Draco stared out fearfully from beneath his bed, waiting for the enemy to enter.

After a few seconds, the wooden door creaked slowly open, and two pairs of legs could be seen stepping into the room. The trembling boy held his breath, not wanting to move a muscle, in case he should be detected.

"Come out. Come out, Come out, Draco," Selwyn sang, walking slowly over to the centre of the room, whilst his partner hastily moved over to the closet.

I flitted into the Death Eater's mind as he lowered himself onto his knees. Slowly, he bent down to check beneath each bed, wand at the ready.

He found nothing though, huffing in frustration as he pushed himself up from the floor.

"Not here," he said to his friend, turning to leave.

_The Disillusionment Charm worked well then, _Draco thought, sighing with relief.

Selwyn stopped abruptly, alerted by the careless sound. A lengthy silence filled the dormitory.

Avery arched an eyebrow, smirking as he held his wand out in front of him. _"Homenum Revelio!"_

A wispy jet of crimson smoke shot suddenly through the room, speedily snaking beneath the bed where the boy was hiding. The Death Eaters didn't waste a second before they were sliding down onto the floor, their hands flying out to close around the invisible limbs which flailed and kicked back at them.

"Got you," Avery grinned, dragging the yelling boy by his hair out into the corridor.

"Let me go! Please! Let me go! I can pay you! I can—"

But his pleas were cut short by Selwyn, who slashed his wand through the air, producing a sound like that of a cracking whip. Draco, who was still invisible, cried out in pain, receiving another lash immediately afterwards, purely for the Death Eater's own amusement.

Upon reaching the common room, Avery threw the boy into the centre of circle, apparently wanting other students to witness the heinous crime.

Next, he swished his wand and lifted the Disillusionment Charm concealing Draco. The boy was wearing jet-black bottoms and a plain t-shirt of a similar shade; the fabric had been slashed twice across his chest, revealing two lines of ripped, bloody flesh.

Laughing once, Avery addressed the other youngsters. "Now, boys and girls, what we have here … is something not worthy to bear the name of Slytherin. What we have here … is something disgusting … something vile; and that something, my young friends … is a traitor."

He cracked his wand just as his friend had, eager to take part in the flagellation. Draco cried out in pain once again as his shirt tore across his stomach, his skin tearing with the impact of the spell. The other Death Eaters laughed loudly, all stepping forwards, determined to have their turn. The screams rang louder than ever with each new wound, until there was little left of Draco's shirt, which now hung in tatters from his blood covered torso. After mutilating his front, they kicked him over so that his back was exposed, and carried on with their work.

The students stood horrified, unable to speak as they gazed on at the torture of their friend.

"Your father, Goyle," Dolohov said, speaking for the first time, "is in Azkaban thanks of this piece of scum and his parents. Don't you want to have a turn?"

Goyle's eyes met Draco's then. He couldn't ignore the desperate prayer he recognised in those watery blue orbs, but nor was he willing to oppose the Death Eaters. Still, he didn't hold Malfoy responsible for his father's imprisonment.

_Not his fault, _thought Goyle, completely disgusted, shaking his head in refusal.

"Oh, well, more fun for us then. _Flagello!"_

Another lash; another howl of pain.

"Ha ha ha!" Selwyn laughed, lowering his wand to the boy, writhing on the stone floor. "I have to admit it: this was fun. I only wish we can't stay to draw it out. Unfortunately, it's time for us to go, I think. Right, boys?" The other hooded men cheered in agreement, anticipating the coming curse. "Any last words, Draco?"

Though the boy was in too much of a state to form a coherent response, his thoughts rang true. _I hope you meet Potter along the way. I hope you get what you deserve._

"No? Very well… _AVADA KED—_"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Selwyn's wand shot suddenly from his hand, flying over the heads of the onlookers, before clattering down onto the stone floor.

"STUPEFY!" cried Harry, blasting a spell at the unprotected man, who was subsequently sent crashing back into the line of students, knocking them to the ground like bowling pins. The other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs came charging in after him, Bella included.

"STAY BEHIND ME!" I shouted to her as I watched the scene unfold, fully aware that my efforts were futile, but unable to help myself.

She headed straight for Avery, launching into one-to-one combat. Harry and Ginny took on Travers, whilst Hermione and Ron teamed up against Dolohov. Lavender and Bayle fought Nott, Dean and Seamus partnered against Rowle, Neville and Parvati fought Macnair, Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley took Jugson, and Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan fought against Ranulf, who turned out to be a terrible duellist, and was disarmed almost instantly.

Whilst the other Slytherins moved out of the way, pressing themselves against the common room walls, Draco was still spilled out across the floor, battered and unmoving. After immobilising the werewolf with the Incarcerous Charm, Susan and Ernie saw to the flayed boy, levitating his body into the air, before moving him carefully off to one side.

Bella, meanwhile, continued to flourish her wand as the spells coursed through her head one after another, ducking behind my hovering body whenever Avery tried to catch her with a curse.

_"Crucio!" _he shouted. I roared wildly into my endless prison, utterly livid.

The curse created a halo of light as it reflected off my skin. Bella hid behind me once again, before pointing her wand at the green and silver hangings draped down from the ceiling. Immediately, the two closest to Avery lunged for the unsuspecting Death Eater, both twisting towards him like boa constrictors, intent on snatching him up and squeezing the air from his lungs. He thrashed against them, struggling violently as one wound its way around his neck like a noose, constricting his airways. Together, they lifted him a metre off the floor, his face turning purple with the passing seconds.

In her thoughts, I saw Bella's next move before she executed it.

_ Disarm and bind._

But her luck changed in a horrible twist of fate. As Neville conjured a shield to protect himself from Macnair's Diarming Charm, the spell bounded off at an angle, reflected straight at Bella. It hit her on the arm, her wand shooting out of her grasp as a result.

Avery's eyes bulged wide as he recognised the opportunity. Aiming his wand at the hangings, he mentally chanted, _Definido_, dropping back down to the ground as the fabric tore in half.

He flung another spell at Bella then, who could do nothing but duck behind my body in an effort to avoid the hit.

"Ha ha ha!" the Death Eater boomed, amused now that he'd finally gained the upper hand. I was running around my black nightmare now like a madman, desperate for some escape, positive that this was the end for Bella.

_He's going to kill her! He's going to kill her! _"DON'T YOU DARE LOSE THIS MATCH, BELLA! DON'T YOU DARE LET HIM TAKE YOU FROM ME!"

"You can't hide behind your vampire forever, little Mudblood." Avery threw another spell, sneering as she dodged it by little more than an inch. "I have to admit … I'm extremely confused as to why he's asleep, but I can't say that I'm complaining." Another vicious sneer. "Makes him a bit of an easy target."

Bella's heart stuttered. She ground her fingernails painfully against the skin of her palms, her breathing quickening in an instant. There was no way the others would be able to help her now; they had their own battles to see to.

Although the Empatheia was almost completely used up, there was enough left in her system for her to make out the Death Eater's growing anticipation. He savoured those last few moments, enjoying the torment. The excitement fizzed faintly on Bella's tongue, the taste similar to orange soda.

"Maybe that's the solution," Avery smirked, tilting his head to the side, "—take this halfbreed out of the picture, and then I can have my way with you."

Bella's heart was in danger of smashing a hole through her ribcage. It clawed inside her, like a creature wanting to break free. A tiny red smudge formed at the centre of her vision.

"Did you know that vampire venom is extremely flammable?" The Death Eater flung back his head and cackled.

Bella's tongue seared with madness.

"Say goodbye to Mr Cullen, Mudblood. I always _did _want to see a vampire burn … "

And with that, Avery raised his wand, laughing louder as Bella released a deafening scream, one which rang with a combination of rage, dread, and sheer desperation.

In one moment of total deranged fury, she abandoned the protection offered by my body, tearing past me towards the amused enemy, eyes wide and crazed, her scream morphing into the most passionate war cry imaginable, the violent noise demanding the attention of every Slytherin in the room.

And then, without warning, that sound ripped into something a million times more ferocious—a deep guttural roar that carried over the shouts and blasts of colliding spells, temporarily stunning the Death Eater towards whom she flew.

I saw it all through his eyes. I saw as the wild, enraged beauty leapt through the air, no restraint to hinder her—no recoil from the animal begging to be unleashed.

Her slender human frame exploded in an instant, the delicate arms and legs bursting into thick and powerful muscle-covered limbs, each armed with a set of formidable, pointed claws. Bella's furious face morphed with her body, her small milky canines shifting into deadly, three-inch fangs.

The last thing Avery saw, before those lethal weapons sliced through the tender flesh of his neck—before they ground excruciatingly against the bones of his back and collar, were a pair of ravenous golden eyes—two large and glorious jewels set above a snarling, snowy muzzle.

The Death Eater tumbled back under the weight of the lioness, his wand dropping automatically from his hand as she slammed her claws through his skin, creating more deep puncture marks over the length of his helpless body. He spluttered out a haze of blood as she crashed on top of him, the air forced from his lungs in a whoosh. The ensuing agonised gurgle which spewed through his lips may have been an attempt to scream. I didn't know or care; I was too busy staring through the eyes of the astounded onlookers, propelled into a brilliant world of limitless awe.

The lioness threw back her head suddenly, sending a trembling chill down every spine in the room as Slytherin house filled with the sound of her victorious roar. Turning away from the mortally wounded Death Eater, whose blood now stained her ice-white muzzle, she rounded on the other enemies, her teeth fully bared as she stalked towards them, a complete predator.

Her movements were strong yet graceful. I shot from one view point to another as she travelled, drinking her in from every angle, determined to see her in all her glory.

Not one of the Death Eaters could focus on defending themselves against oncoming spells with such a fearsome creature edging her way towards them.

Dolohov's eyes lingered on his panting friend, who couldn't seem to pull enough air through his punctured airway. The collar of his robes was now saturated with blood, dark circles forming under his eyes, whilst the rest of his skin was sapped of its peachy colour, leaving it almost as white as mine.

_There's no way I'm sticking around for that! _the Death Eater cried mentally, desperate to be out of the lioness' reach.

Aiming his wand in Hermione and Ron's direction, he cried, _"Procella!"_

A sudden gale shot forth, so powerful that it swept the pair up, sending them crashing against the stone wall. They hit it with a thud, held against rock as the wind continued to batter their bodies.

Travers took a page out of his friend's book and executed the same move, sending Harry and Ginny flying back against the opposite wall.

"Retreat!" shouted Dolohov, sprinting away through the hole in the sliding wall, his mind filled only with the image of the hungry-looking lioness. The other Death Eaters followed after him, firing Stunners over their shoulders in their efforts to escape. Selwyn, who had now regained consciousness, ran on behind.

Bella turned and snarled at him, ready to attack. The jet of green light he fired in her direction, however, forced her to leap in an alternate direction. With her out of the way, he made his bolt for the exit, aiming a spell at his maimed partner on the way out.

_"Obliviate!" Sorry, brother._

Avery's eyes instantly lost their focus, his expression transforming from pleading to vacant in an instant.

Bella snarled as Selwyn disappeared from view. Even in this form, it was easy to read her expression; she was torn. Though she desperately wanted to go after the invaders—to destroy those who had invaded the Hogwart's territory—there was another instinct also, the one demanding that she ensure her pride was safe.

Her head flipped in Harry and Ginny's direction, before she bounded to their side. The two Gryffindors were clearly still feeling the effects of the impact, rubbing their shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Nothing, however, could lessen their shock as the lioness stopped before them, their jaws dropping low as she scanned their bodies for damage.

Blinking rapidly, Harry finally managed to find his voice. "Bella?"

Carefully, so as not to scare him, the lioness gently nudged his chest with the crown of her head, her long, snowy tail stroking the air behind her.

Harry and Ginny smiled widely, cautiously touching their hands to Bella's coat, running them slowly along the length of her muscular back.

_So smooth, _Ginny thought in wonderment, marvelling at the texture beneath her fingertips. "I can't believe it's you," she whispered, entranced. "You're … That was incredible, Bella."

"I'll say," Hermione agreed, making her way over with the others, all of whom were wearing similar awed expression.

Ron nodded. "It's easy to see why they chose you, Bella. Not many people are fierce enough to run with vampires."

"Agreed!" I sang into the dark, giddy with relief.

Bella looked over the faces of her friends, satisfied when she found that no one was hurt. Then, she turned for the exit, her eyes intense once again.

That was the first time I flitted into the mind of the lioness. Initially, I'd been so consumed with the image of her that I'd been unwilling to switch to a perspective which didn't give me the full view. Now, however, the only thing I was interested in was her mind.

Upon diving into her thoughts, I was immediately overwhelmed by the surging instincts, which seemed to overrule everything else. Her mind, whilst focused and determined, was definitely 'animal'. Now it was the human that was buried deep within, the lioness dominating the surface, determined to have her fun.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, taking in the scents of those whom she had just faced. One smell in particular made her hairs stand on end, triggering some kind of instinctual siren, which began screaming too loudly to be ignored. Turning away from the exit, she quickly searched for the source, her body tensing as her eyes landed on me.

_Dangerous! _instinct told her. _Deadly!_

She stood frozen as she looked at me, and then suddenly began to pace.

As she did, she tried to dispel the warning from her thoughts. She knew the right thing to do would be to go after the Death Eaters, but, suddenly, she was finding it impossible to leave her friends, terrified lest I should wake up.

My heart sank, dead as it may be.

"Bella?"

The lioness looked up at Hermione, and then back at me, and then back at Hermione once more.

The comprehension dawned on the girl's face, and she steadily laid a hand upon my fiancée's tense shoulders, leading her over to my still, unconscious body. "It's Edward, Bella. _Your_ Edward. I know you're probably more than a little muddled right now, but just look at him."

Bella was reluctant, but she did as she was told, leaning over me to get a better view. Her gaze travelled over my closed eyes, moving lower over my nose to my lips. She sniffed hesitantly at my skin, leaping back as the strong, sweet perfume assaulted her senses.

Curious now, she edged her way forwards, inhaling once more. There was recognition this time as the lilac-honey-sunshine smell swirled in her head. She inhaled again, the buried human climbing further to the surface with each breath.

_Smell … dangerous smell … familiar smell … nice smell. _She concentrated on my appearance then, trying to silence the animal instincts telling her I was bad. Slowly but surely, the human memories began to take control. _Dangerous face … familiar face … beautiful face … Edward's face. Edward…_

_ My Edward…_

_ My vampire._

_ My nice smelling, beautiful-faced, dangerous vampire. _

_ Edward… _

_ Mine._

I breathed a sigh of relief as her fear waned, her mind finally finding a balance—that perfect state for an Animagus: somewhere between understanding and instinctual; between human and animal…

Between Bella and Lioness.

The second her thoughts became human enough for her to comprehend what I was to her, she settled down beside me, focused solely now on protecting my sleeping body.

_My Edward, _she thought again. _Mine. All mine._

"Yes!"

"Um, Bella?" Bella gazed up at Ron, her eyes questioning. "Now isn't really the time for a snuggle. The Death Eaters—they're still in the castle. We've got to go help McGonagall and the others. We've got to drive 'em out."

The lioness snorted. _Not leaving Edward. Protect Edward._

"Bella, please. Edward will be safe now."

"Yes," said Hermione, attempting to convince the great, unwilling feline, "we'll move him to an empty classroom—somewhere out of the way. But Ron's right; we have to protect the school… protect our home."

_Protect, yes. Edward is priority. Must protect Edward… But Edward is safe… Home is not. Must protect home! Must fight the enemy! Must drive them out!_

She pounced to her feet then, her muscles instantly bunching and releasing as she charged off towards the exit, her tail swinging automatically for balance. There was no way the others could keep up with her; she'd reached the end of the long corridor before they'd even stepped into it.

The scent of the Death Eaters was strong in her nose, focusing her thoughts on one thing alone: the hunt.

_Have to track. Have to catch. _Must _destroy._

I was in awe once again as the magical cat tore past Hufflepuff house, travelling at no less than thirty miles per hour.

As she careered closer to danger, I cast my mind out to the farther reaches of the castle.

Way up on the fifth floor, Fulplume and Martin had succeeded in knocking out two low ranking Death-Eaters, leaving only a struggling Crabbe to fend off the professors.

_This fight is over, _he told himself, throwing one last curse at his opponents, before leaping swiftly into the air, his head and body shrinking as it transformed, feathers sprouting from his spanning arms, which quickly became a beating set of wings.

The vulture flew through an open window, fleeing the school in its cowardice.

Professor Fulplume wasted no time; stuffing her wand into her robes, she too sprung into the air, her graceful, slender body shedding even more of its mass than Crabbe's had, as she became a tiny, fluttering nightingale, following her enemy out into the night.

"Philomela!" Professor Martin cried, rushing to the window in worry for his colleague.

_Good, _the vulture thought, mistaking the shout for confirmation that the witch had been hurt. _Now … fly back to base._

_ Keep going, ingrate, _the nightingale chuckled. _You fly; I spy._

"Good," I said to myself, grateful for the professor's courage. I pulled out of her mind then, switching perspectives.

Professor Flitwick was currently dumping two incarcerated Death Eaters into a broom closet, using a roll of spellotape to seal their mouths shut.

"That might hurt a bit when it's finally ripped off," he said jollily. "I'll _try_ to remember to tell the Ministry folk to be careful with it. It's been a long night though; didn't get my usual eight hours. I'll probably forget."

He chuckled as he shut the closet door.

_ "Colloportus," _he said with a flick of his wand, effectively sealing it shut.

Then he ran as fast as he could back to the Grand Staircase, entering on to it just in time to see McGonagall and Slughorn flying into the Entrance Hall below, the flash of spells illuminating the lower levels every few seconds.

Just before he set off to join them, he discerned a streak of white exiting out of the dungeons, flying after the fighters down below.

The next shot I saw through McGonagall's eyes. As she fired one last spell, the Stunner missing Rodolphus by inches as he dived through the open door, a massive, white lioness charged past her and Slughorn. The Potions Master was so startled by the sight that he jumped and squeaked in fright.

Bella swerved as she reached the exit, her powerful legs coiling in preparation, before she launched out into the night, her prey locked in sight. With her new enhanced eyesight, she could make out every feature of the men further off in the distance—could detect their ragged breathing and footfalls with her improved hearing, even though some had to be almost a mile away, all running towards the boundaries of Hogwarts where they would be able to apparate. The ones furthest ahead weren't her concern though; she only had eyes for the three nearest foes: Rookwood and the Lestranges.

In a mad burst of speed, she pushed her muscles faster and harder, her pounding heart seeming to hammer at various points of her body.

_Faster, _she told herself, her great limbs going into overdrive, propelling her to a velocity that could surely have been no less than forty miles per hour, more than double that of her prey.

Rabastan was the slowest of the three, trailing a few feet behind. Bella locked onto her target like the homing device of a military aircraft, her eyes zeroing in on the exposed flesh of his neck—the perfect place in which to plunge her teeth—the spot where she would easily be able to sever the spinal cord.

Suddenly, three pairs of enormous bat-like wings materialised from between the Death Eaters' shoulder-blades, just like those Severus Snape had worn during his flight from the castle. They flapped madly as the three attempted to take off, beating the air forcefully against the ground.

If it hadn't been for Bella's incredible spring, they all would've escaped unscathed; however, when she threw herself into the air, her white bunching thighs thrusting her almost four metres above the ground, Rabastan had not yet gained enough height to escape her. Her mighty jaw snapped ferociously around his foot, earning a scream of agony from the captured man.

With their combined weight, the wings weren't powerful enough to continue carrying them upwards. They'd already dropped a metre towards the ground when he successfully managed to stabilise himself. I had no idea how he found the willpower to do it whilst Bella's enormous teeth were buried in his in his foot, but he did, though he screamed nevertheless.

She swung her body in her efforts to pull him to the floor, thrashing from side to side. Black spots appeared across his vision as the agony shot through his limbs, seeming to surge through every searing nerve.

"LE-GO!"

I laughed aloud. Did he actually expect her to listen? "Idiot."

Sure enough, Bella thrashed harder, almost tearing his leg off in the process. He screamed louder in response, searching the skies for his allies. They hovered about eighty feet up, looking down on the scene below.

"We have to help him!" Rodolphus shouted in panic. He pointed his wand at Bella, ready to fire. Rookwood slammed his arm against his side immediately.

"Are you insane? You'd have just as much chance of hitting your brother!"

"So what the hell do we do?!"

Rookwood shrugged callously. "What _can _we do?"

_Nothing, _I thought, smiling wickedly, content to see that the murderous scum was finally getting what he deserved.

My smile faded instantly as Rabastan, driven by sheer desperation, aimed his wand at the lioness. I heard the curse before he uttered it, the words coursing through his mind, and screamed out a cry that was blood-curdling even to my own ears.

"BELLAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

In that final second before the flare of green lightning burst from Lestrange's weapon, a set of different thoughts invaded my mind.

From deep within the castle, a piercing shriek of dread—my voice—suddenly reached the lioness' strong, new ears. In her mind's eye, she saw the situation play out before it did, realising the precise spell about to be cast upon her. Instinct overrode everything, each muscle reacting automatically.

As Rabastan cried out his last hope for victory, like some kind of living, breathing pendulum, Bella swung her body upwards with all her might.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Her snowy frame flew up towards the sky, her teeth still gripping the Death Eater by the foot, pulling the limb up along with her; and so, as she swept out of the Killing Curse's path, Rabastan's mutilated leg was dragged into it, the fatal flare bursting against him in a flash of green, silencing his thoughts once and for all, and ending his life in a heartbeat.

The pair fell back towards the earth as the conjured wings abruptly vanished—two bodies, one mind.

One glorious, fearsome winner.

Predictably, like the most graceful tabby cat, the lioness landed on her feet, the only blood staining her fur still that of the two defeated enemies, one of whom lay dead on the grass, destroyed by his own dark magic.

Two sets of screams filled the air immediately afterwards: those from behind—a chorus of relieved cheers released by the watching students and teachers; and those coming from above—hate-filled cries of a man whose brother had just been taken from him.

The Hogwarts defenders flew forwards as the Death Eater plummeted towards the subject of his fury, their wands upraised, all pointing at Rodolphus. A dozen spells flew in his direction then, forcing him to swerve mid-air. More charms and jinxes followed, filling the fading night with streaks of red lightning, but, like before, they failed to hit their mark.

The last Lestrange flew back up into the air, turning only when he was out of range. He turned upon reaching Rookwood, and in a voice so cold and furious that, by all rights, it should have layered the ground beneath in a blanket of frost, he called, "ON MY LIFE, I SWEAR THAT YOU'LL REGRET THIS NIGHT! ON MY LIFE… YOU SHALL REGRET IT!"

He pointed a finger at Bella then, his eyes as hungry and focused as hers. She stared calmly up at him, panting from exertion.

_Come back … Won't bite … Promise._

With one last sneer, he and Rookwood resumed their flight, heading for the boundaries of Hogwarts, where they would be able to apparate away. Bella sat and watched them go, her massive golden eyes fixed on their shrinking figures, her thin, pink tongue licking at the blood dampening her muzzle.

Fast falling footsteps could be heard from somewhere in the castle. She heard the approaching students long before the other witches and wizards, all of whom continued to gaze into the distance.

Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan came sprinting out into the open air, their faces flushed from the run, terror plain in their wide, bulging eyes.

"What happened?!" Ernie cried, demanding the attention of the others. "Where's Bella?! Is she …"

They stopped abruptly, their gazes landing on the unhurt lioness, and blinked in shock, exchanging a number of confused glances.

"What's the matter, Mr Macmillan?" asked the Headmistress, turning to look at the Hufflepuffs. Despite her question, she wore a very knowing expression, raising an eyebrow expectantly. In addition, there was a certain pride visible in the way she postured herself; her body stood tall and straight, her chin raised ever so slightly, seeming almost condescending as she waited for a reply.

"We… we thought for sure that…"

"We were transporting Edward to the potions lab," Susan explained, taking over from Ernie, "when he suddenly screamed out Bella's name in his sleep. What with his ability and everything, we thought that—"

"That something must have happened to Miss Swan," McGonagall finished. The two students stared on blankly, whist the professor waved a hand at the formidable feline sat beside her. "Well, as you can see, Miss Swan is perfectly fine, though I'm afraid the same can't be said for Mr Lestrange."

With a flick of her head, she indicated the man sprawled out behind her. Susan and Ernie's eyes very nearly popped out of their sockets as they stared at the fallen enemy, filling with an intense respect as they turned them on Bella, who was once again staring out into the distance.

"I think, perhaps, the Death Eaters will seriously think twice the next time they decide to come knocking on Hogwarts' doors. Wouldn't you agree?"

The Hufflepuffs nodded, still utterly speechless.

Professor McGonagall turned to address Bella then, eager to hear the answers the witch had earlier promised her. "Now, Miss Swan, would you mind telling me how—" She didn't have time to finish though; without warning, the lioness stood from her sitting position and loped steadily away, heading in the direction of the Hogwarts gates, her mind focused entirely on defending the territory.

Harry made to go after her, but Mcgonagall held a hand out to stop him. "No, let her go. The first few times are the same for everyone; you have to let the instincts play out. When she's convinced herself that they're not coming back, she'll return to her natural form."

She sighed then, and said, "I suppose I'd better go inform Kingsley. I have a few strong words for him this morning. Are the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins safe?"

"Yes. I've had the house elves transport the Hufflepuffs to St Mungos. The Death Eaters lit their common room with Fiendfyre." The Headmistress' expression filled with alarm; Harry rushed to explain. "No one was seriously hurt, but the smoke was fairly thick. I figured it was best to get them all check out."

"Yes, that was a very sensible idea."

"There was one more casualty though… Avery. Selwyn erased his memory before he left, but he's in a pretty bad state. He sort of provoked Bella."

McGonagall chuckled once. "How very stupid of him. It seems that anyone who upsets that girl gets it in the end, whether by another's hands or her own…"

"Very well—Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger; please alert Madam Pomfrey and have her see to him. The professors and I will take care of the rest."

The crowd dispersed a little then, the staff heading off to take care of the school, whilst Harry, Ron, and Hermione set about fulfilling the Headmistress' instructions, leaving the rest of the students behind, each of whom continued to stare after the lioness.

The sky was beginning to lighten now, the horizon turning a soft lilac. It was difficult to believe that there were still oblivious people scattered throughout the castle. So many peaceful sleepers, all completely unaware.

That was when I remembered Rosalie.

Although the fall hadn't caused her physical pain, her body had been jostled as she'd hit the ground, and she hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. For that reason, her mind had associated that with the powerlessness she'd experienced in her past, conjuring images of the men who'd ruined her life.

Those faces had vanished now, however, only to be replaced with that of a dark haired toddler, whose big blue eyes stared back at my weeping sister through a sheet of unbreakable glass.

_Rosalie banged her fist against the screen, desperate to reach the boy on the other side. Her __alabaster cheeks were streaked with tears, and she screamed out a cry so pain-filled and devoid of hope that I suddenly felt as if my heart was suffering the same torture that Draco had had to endure._

I quickly switched perspectives, unable to bear another moment.

Emmett was taking on an army of bears. He seemed to be enjoying the challenge. Clearly, the effects of his fall had not been quite as serious.

I put the thoughts of everyone else out of my head, concentrating only on Bella's and my own.

She was following the trail down to the gates, running at a maintainable pace. Every fifty metres or so, she would stop to inhale the recent human scents, committing them to memory, ensuring each one ran all the way to the boundary line. Predictably, none of them deviated from the path; each escapee had been desperate to get away.

They hadn't counted on meeting an opposition, all assuming that the castle's inhabitants would unsuspectingly be tucked away in their beds. The plan had been to sneak in quickly, torch the Gryffindor tower, and get out before the teachers and other students had time to do anything about it. Fortunately, things had taken a turn for the worst for them, and rather than taking out their targets, they had had their ranks thinned.

After reaching the gates, Bella began to prowl the grounds, gradually making her way around the perimeter.

Dawn's shining fingers were spanning across the sky when I finally began to drift awake, the brilliant golds in the East merging into the soft blues of the West. I blinked my eyes open to the stone ceiling of the potions lab, taking a few moments to gather my wits. The last few hours had been some of the most horrific I'd ever know; they'd made me feel completely and utterly impotent, rendered useless as the lives of Bella and my friends were threatened.

Thoughts of the girl had me charging from the dungeons. I was so desperate to see her that my speed set the air whistling. I hurtled through the Entrance Hall and out the door, shooting around the edge of the castle towards the desired inner-voice, which flared on the edge of my radar.

I coasted to a stop as Emmett came into view. He was knelt on the grass, holding Rosalie's body in his arms. He rocked her gently, and made soothing sushing noises into her ear as she whimpered in her sleep. As I approached, his eyes landed on me, his expression both distressed and demanding.

_What the hell happened?! Why are we out here?!_

I crouched down beside him, sighing heavily as I stroked my sister's forehead. "Hogwarts was attacked last night."

…

_Explain!_

Jasper and Alice joined us then, both equally confused.

I filled them in on everything that had happened, explaining how it had been the Empatheia which had alerted Bella to impending danger.

"I don't believe it," Jasper said, shaking his head. "We were roaming the grounds after you left with Bella last night. If we'd stayed out a few more hours, we could have stopped all of this!"

Emmett and Rosalie had been 'roaming the grounds' too. They'd returned to bed later than Alice and Jasper, hence the reason why Rosalie was the last to wake. As usual, Emmett's massive size meant that he used the potion up faster than anyone else, which was why he'd woken the same time as Jasper and Alice, even though they'd had a good thirty minutes on him.

"What's wrong with Rosalie?" Alice asked, her voice dripping with worry.

"The fall affected her dreams," I said sadly. "She had to relive what happened in Rochester—" Emmett's hands bunched into tight fists at this, whilst a low growl ripped through his teeth, "—and face what she lost during the transformation."

My sister whimpered once more, before her eyes finally opened. For the first few moments, the only emotion she exhibited was confusion.

"Hey, baby," Emmett whispered gently, staring lovingly into her face.

_Baby… _A gasp of pain ripped suddenly through her teeth. Emmett clutched her tighter, refusing to let go as she rode out the wave of tearless sobs.

"Ssssssh," he whispered again, stroking her golden hair. "I'm here; you're safe. Sssssh."

Alice, Jasper and I waited off to the side, allowing our grieving sister some space to recover. For a solid five minutes, she cried into her husband's shoulder, unable to get the image of the boy out of her head. It was Emmett's face that eventually brought her back; she saw those features—the dimples, the blue eyes, the dark curly hair—and was grateful once again that she had found him.

After finally collecting herself, she demanded the details of the previous night, just like the others had. I filled her in quickly, eager to meet Bella—to have her back in my arms.

"Where is she?" Jasper asked as we shot across the grounds.

"The Forbidden Forest," Alice and I said together, the two of us leading the way.

We crossed her scent a hundred metres from the trees, following it as it led us into the thick maze. I was surprised to find that Bella's lion smell was exactly the same as her human one; I hadn't expected that. Then, of course, I remembered what she'd said when the Headmistress had visited our home in July: though Animagi could alter their physical shape and size, they were still completely human, whereas the Quileutes were descended from wolves, two spirits locked in one body.

Her thoughts ran through my mind as we neared. She knew we were coming, having discerned the crunching of leaves under our feet. She tensed at our approach, awaiting our arrival in a narrow clearing.

I slowed to a walk when we were about twenty metres away, not wanting to frighten her. Alice was the only one out of my siblings who didn't gasp at the initial sight. Though I'd already known what to expect after seeing her through human eyes, I wasn't any less blown away. Now, thanks to my vampiric sight, I could appreciate her fully: every hair, every fleck of colour, every curve of her feline face and body—every incredible, minute detail.

She was perched on a blanket of golden leaves, the colours contrasting wonderfully against her white coat. Her large golden eyes flashed from one vampire to the next: first Alice; then Jasper; next Rosalie; then Emmett; lastly, me. They were aware and intelligent, and although the presence of my siblings initially triggered a slight anxiety, that emotion quickly vanished, her mind finding its balance once more.

_Pride, _was the word that registered first; she corrected herself a second later. _Family. My family. My vampires. My vampire family. Emmett. Jasper. Alice. Rose. And… _

She stood, pausing briefly, before taking a step forward.

"Is that… Is that really Bella?" Jasper gasped, unable to accept the dazzling vision before him. Her scent, however, was even more potent at present, rising off her in waves with the increase in her body heat.

My eyes raked over her as she slowly approached us, all the way from the tips of her rounded ears to the sharp points of her claws. I smiled widely as, for the first time, I noticed a strange set of markings on her two front legs.

Just above her right paw, there was a thin grey ring circling her leg. On one side, there was a strange shape that looked a little bit like a wolf; on the other, clear and defined, lay a perfectly formed heart, a silver tattoo against the white skin. On the left leg lay a similar circle, which was an obvious representation of Esme's bracelet. None of these, though, were the reason for my smile.

There, on the paw where her engagement ring should have laid, printed forever onto her fourth toe, was a perfectly formed silver band. My heart felt as if it would swell to twice its size as I realised this marking would be recorded when she was registered—the best possible symbol of my love for her now an eternal, identifying feature… written into her very skin.

I hadn't been prepared for how much I would like that.

My brothers and sisters were silent as Bella halted before us, their minds four separate maelstroms of awe.

Emmett's eyes zeroed in on the blood covering her muzzle, and he realised once and for all the truth we all should have seen from the very beginning.

_I think, being what we are, Edward, we don't always recognise the strength in humans. Since becoming a vampire, I've always thought them weak, both in mind and body. Even after the battle in May, I still could never see Bella for what she really is. Wands, to me, sometimes seem like guns—powerful, but separate from the one holding them. You know I'm not the kind of person who can judge someone's strength based on the weapon they carry._

I nodded, understanding his point.

_I can see her properly now though, _he continued, speaking more to himself than to me. _She really is a warrior—willing to go to any length to protect what she loves. She's more like us than we give her credit. Maybe that's the reason for her white skin and golden eyes… She was born to be a Cullen._

Emmett's moment of insight, thanks to his vampiric mind, had taken little more than a few seconds; even so, in all the time that I had known him, he had never shared with me one as significant as this. Though both of my brothers had gradually developed a very deep respect for Bella, it had never been as great as it was today.

Carefully, I edged my way towards the lioness, crouching low so that our eyes were level. The need to touch her—to ensure that she was real, rather than an incredible trick of my imagination—was too great to resist. Raising my hand to the snowy fur of her neck, I marvelled at the way it felt beneath my fingertips.

"She's so beautiful," Alice murmured behind me. _Strong and lovely… Beautiful. _

"Beautiful," I repeated, unable to tear my eyes from Bella's.

Her tail gracefully stroked the air behind her, completely relaxed now, thanks to Jasper's influence.

_Edward…_

And then, suddenly, her carefully balanced mind tipped, instinct dropping away as the human emotions exploded to the surface.

I flashed backwards in an instant, allowing her the space she needed to transform. The entire thing happened extremely quickly, her bone-structure shifting swiftly into a human arrangement, her face returning to its heart-like shape, the thousands of white hairs morphing into thin pyjamas… deep gold melting into rich chocolate.

My family stood like silent statues as the human Bella made her reappearance, her heart beating madly, eyes still wide and wild. In those first few moments, she seemed completely disoriented, the lioness lingering close to the surface. As the seconds passed, however, the realisation crept onto her face.

In the last moment before her mind went into lock down, she remembered the blood that had stained her beautiful white coat, and how it had got there.

She touched a hand to her mouth, and glanced down a second later at her red fingers. The crimson fluid still clung to her lips, chin, and nose, becoming sticky as it coalesced with the air. I'd expected her to react in her usual way and grow pale with nausea. She didn't though, much to my surprise. Instead, her eyes flew wide and landed on me, seeming to fill with some kind of fear and a silent plea.

I slowly closed the distance between us once again, leaving only an inch to separate her from me.

Even with her defences up, her thoughts were easy to read, etched clearly along every line of her expression. She was afraid of what I would think of her now—after the two violent attacks she'd executed during the night.

Sliding a finger under her chin, I tilted her face up, thereby preventing her from avoiding my gaze. I wanted her to look at me when I said what need to be said. I wanted her to see the conviction in my eyes.

"Never… " I said roughly, my voice thick with emotion, "never in my life have I been as proud as I am now."

Shock flashed across her face, unprepared as she was for my words. She inhaled a shaky breath, blinking back tears, and whispered, "But … I killed. Rabastan Lestrange … he's dead because of me."

"No," I disagreed, "he's dead because he hit himself instead of you. You weren't the one who fired the curse, Bella. He did that himself."

She swallowed, nodding slowly. "And… Avery—is he dead? He lost a lot of blood."

"He's alive," I confirmed, checking for his 'voice'. Madam Pomfrey was tending to his unconscious body in the hospital wing, carefully pouring a blood replenishing potion into his mouth. She'd already seen to his wounds, her expert healing leaving his neck free of its earlier punctures. "Physically, he'll be fine. I'm not so sure about his mind though. Selwyn wiped it."

"I remember."

She looked past me then to the others, her expression wary.

Emmett, as usual, broke the tension. "Can't believe you got to have all the fun," he grumbled. "Of all the rotten luck!"

We all laughed at that, except Rosalie, of course, who couldn't find it in herself at present. All things considered, I didn't blame her.

A wave of excitement suddenly swept over Bella's face. She bounced once on her toes, wearing a grin so wide that it practically stretched from ear to ear. "Edward, I did it! I did it!"

"You did it," I beamed, thrilled by her achievement.

"I'm an Animagus!"

"You were amazing!" I almost sang, lifting her into the air. I held her up like a trophy, spinning with her over the forest floor, before gently lowering her back into my arms. More than once I had to remind myself that she was human; if I hadn't, I probably would've crushed her bones from hugging her too tightly.

"I have to admit it, Bella," Jasper smirked, shaking his head light-heartedly, "what you did just now was pretty spectacular. I think that's one point for the witches and wizards."

Emmett's head snapped to our brother. "Dude!"

"Dude!" the Empath teased, mimicking the look of disbelief.

"Are you serious? You can't back the competition! And especially not today!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm already bummed that we missed out on the action, that's why! Belonging to the coolest species on the planet is one of the only consolations right now. Don't take it away from me!"

My lips pressed into a hard line as I tried to suppress the laughter. Even Rosalie smiled a little.

"Can you do it again?" Alice asked suddenly, looking at Bella beseechingly.

Bella blinked, her expression uncertain as she considered my sister's words.

The barriers dropped in an instant, revealing a whooshing stream of consciousness, a lion-like splodge recalled from deep within. In the last moment before she forced the creature forwards, Bella smiled an eye-crinkling grin, her euphoric laughter morphing into playful growls.

The lioness burst out from the slender beauty, like a coat turned inside out. It kind of amused me to think of it that way: silk in, fur out, as if the girl were actually hiding inside the feline's body.

"Sorry, Em," Jasper laughed, eyes wide with wonder, "but it—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. A point to witches and wizards." Though he tried to look sufficiently grumpy, Emmett couldn't keep the awe from seeping onto his face any more than the rest of us.

Bella bounded giddily around the narrow clearing, her tail swinging out behind her. She came to a stop by the base of a large beech tree, her eyes cast up to the higher branches, where dozens of birds were sat, watching her carefully.

Suddenly, a massive, guttural roar burst through her open mouth, the awesome sound provoking the feathery spectators into frightened flight. I could practically hear the laugh rumbling in Bella's chest as she turned back to us, eyes bright with amusement.

_Edward, _Jasper said to me_, your girlfriend is seriously cool._

"Well, duh!" We both laughed loudly at my witty reply. Bella cocked her head to the side, her expression confused. "For a moment there, Jasper sounded like an actual teenager. It happens so rarely that I had to poke fun."

The lioness rolled her eyes, coming to stand by us then. Alice danced forwards, compelled by sheer intrigue. She carefully ran her hands along Bella's back, exploring the muscle and bone structure.

"Fascinating," she murmured, eyes wide. Bella sat calmly as the others drew closer, humouring my siblings just this once.

"Damn," said Emmett as she showed him her teeth. "Those things are huge!"

"I wonder if you'll be able to carry this talent into your next life, Bella," Jasper wondered aloud.

His words set the rest of us pondering. Emmett's eyes gradually grew larger and larger as he considered what those enormous canines could do if they were as strong as a vampire's. Afterwards, he began considering other things.

_... She's going to be a tank! Lions are faster and stronger than humans; would a vampire lion be faster and stronger than a humanoid vampire? Four legs to run with, so faster than Edward… _

My eyes narrowed competitively.

_And all that muscle. Will she be stronger than… No. No way. Nope, nope, nope. Noooooo way._

He continued the chant for an extra minute. I was struggling to keep it together by the time he'd finished, ready to burst into a fit of laughter. Emmett in denial made for great comedy value in my opinion.

I could have sat there all day and marvelled over Bella, but Rosalie finally suggested we head back to the castle, which I couldn't help but think a good idea. There were still things we had to see to, such as the problem of the cursed Divination teacher. No one, excluding our small party, knew of Professor Trelawney's current predicament. We'd have to get her help immediately.

Bella looked at me just before we were about to set off, her eyes smiling. _Run?_

"We'll keep to your pace," I nodded, smiling back at her.

And so, we all began our sprint back to the castle. My brothers and sisters, like me, couldn't take their eyes off Bella, too absorbed in her fluid bounds and uncharacteristic gracefulness. It was the first time since becoming a vampire that I nearly hit a tree.

We kept to steady thirty miles an hour the entire way back. I knew that Bella was able to run faster, but since lions could only achieve their top speed in short bursts, I didn't want to push her too hard.

She nudged my leg as we reached the castle doors, springing excitedly, much to my family's amusement. The lioness sunk back beneath the surface then as the girl returned.

I slung my arm around her shoulders as we entered the castle, pulling her past the Grand Hall, which was now completely full with Gryffindors, Slytherins, and Ravenclaws, all immersed in frantic discussion about the night's events.

It didn't surprise me how often Bella's name cropped up. The news of her transformation and what it had meant for the Death Eaters was too juicy for them to pass up on. Her name was hot on even Slytherin tongues.

"Did you see the way she latched onto his throat?" Astoria Greengrass said to her sister, Daphne.

"Who didn't? I was surprised she didn't rip it out. I wish she had!" _He deserved it after what he did to Draco!_

On the next table, a few of the Ravenclaws had seated themselves by the Gryffindors, eager to take part in the conversation.

"I didn't even know there was such a thing as a white lion! Do they actually exist then?" asked Ernie Macmillan.

"Oh, yeah," said Terry Boot. "They're real alright. Extremely rare though. A recessive gene triggers the colouring. They're found on the plains of South Africa."

"…And she leapt at him like you wouldn't believe!" Seamus exclaimed, using his hands to express the action more effectively. "This massive, white lioness, with teeth longer than my bloody wand!" He held it up for the crowd to see, clearly exaggerating the actual truth.

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as we turned onto the second floor of the Grand Staircase. Most of the paintings had been left unharmed, but a few had been damaged during the explosions. Luckily, all of the portrait people were fine. It was an inconvenience for them more than anything else, meaning that the intact frames would just be a little crowded until the other canvases could be restored.

Bella yawned widely as we neared Gryffindor tower. I was tempted to pick her up and carry her to bed, aware of how exhausted she was. She wouldn't have liked that though, and we still had to visit the Head's office, so I settled for pressing her closer against my side, enjoying the feeling of her skin against mine.

We were just about to turn onto the next flight of stairs when the door to the fifth floor swung open.

A smiling Carlisle and Esme stepped out of the corridor, looking pristine as ever in their morning attire. My father was garbed in the green uniformed robes of St Mungo's, whilst my mother looked lovely in a violet knee-length dress, which she wore under thin black robes.

They froze instantly as the sight before them assaulted their eyes: the crumbling walls; the missing rock in the railing; the scorched paintings; their children wandering about the castle in pyjamas; Bella's blood smeared jaw…

Immediately, the cheer dropped from their expressions, replaced instead with a muddle of negative emotion. I witnessed everything from confusion to fright as it played across their faces.

After a few moments of complete and utter stillness, Carlisle's eyes zeroed in on me.

"Did we _miss _something?"

No one seemed to know quite what to say, except for Emmett, of course, who had total sympathy for the perplexed leader of our family.

"Dad, I know _exactly _how you feel."

*

"I don't care what your intentions were, Kingsley," McGonagall shouted. "You endangered my students when you invited your leak into the castle! Now I don't know how this happened, but, I assure you, I'm going to get to the bottom of it, and when I—"

"Ahem," Carlisle coughed, poking his head through the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Minerva, but I believe you wanted to see Bella?"

"Ah, yes. Come in, come in."

We filed into the office then, Bella, my family and I standing opposite the Minister and the Headmistress. Kingsley looked exceptionally worn, little bags forming beneath his eyes. His sapphire robes were full of creases, as if he'd thrown his uniform on in a hurry, selecting something he'd had on days before.

Alice's eyes narrowed; I smirked.

"So," McGonagall said, looking directly at Bella, "would you care to explain how you discovered the Death Eaters and their plan?"

Bella took a deep, calming breath, memories of earlier hours filling her mind. When she was sufficiently relaxed, she launched into her explanation, retelling the story from her perspective. McGonagall looked horrified upon discovering that a member of staff had been Imperiused, but didn't interrupt the tale, listening carefully all the way to its conclusion.

She shook her head then, sighing heavily. "That's the second time one of Horace's start-of-term potions has aided a battle… I have to thank you also, Edward. Inviting you and your family to Hogwarts proved to be a very smart move."

"I was happy to help," I told her. "I only wish I could have done more."

She nodded gravely, her eyes falling out of focus. "Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to make your sleeping compulsory. We'd certainly avoid issues like this in the future if you were awake." She directed a sharp glance at Kingsley then, and said, "Not that anything like this shall ever be happening again. The only people with access to Hogwarts from now on, at least until the Death Eaters are captured, shall be the students and teachers."

"I'll make an exception today," she continued, her mouth pulling up slightly at the corners, "since we need to get you registered as an Animagus, Miss Swan."

Bella's brow suddenly creased in surprise. "Today?"

"Yes. I requested a registrar earlier this morning. He should be arriving any minute."

Sure enough, one hundred and thirty seven seconds later, a squat, pink-faced wizard with a bulbous nose and thick, white muttonchops came waddling into the room.

"Hello, hello. I'm Griswold Bizaulwax," he greeted us cheerfully. After we'd run through the proper introductions, his gaze landed on Bella. "So, you must be the young Animagus I'm here to register."

She blushed and nodded.

"Spiffing! We'd best be getting on with it then, hadn't we?" He flicked his wand at the briefcase by his side, which opened to release a Ministry stamped piece of parchment, a quill, and a pad of ink—the kind you'd use for fingerprinting. The quill hovered over the paper as Bizaulwax clapped his hands together. "Right, Miss Swan, if you wouldn't mind, please assume you second shape. I need to get a good look at you."

My siblings and I took a step back, giving her some room. Evidently, no one had informed the registrar of the fact that Bella's animal form was a giant cat measuring five foot nine in head and body length. When she morphed, the unsuspecting man yelped and fell flat on his behind.

Bella met my gaze, then. I smirked at her. _Don't laugh, _she warned. _You laugh; I will laugh. __My laugh is big. Man will think I want to eat him._

I pressed my lips together, trying to stick to her instructions.

Carlisle and Esme's thoughts helped me relax. They were both staring on in wonderment at the lioness before them.

_She's glorious, _thought Carlisle, casting his mind back over all the documentaries he'd seen on the great African cats. _Large, even for a lioness. A good bone structure. A healthy coat… Lovely._

Whilst my father continued his musings, Bizaulwax fumbled through his robes for a tape measure. Upon successfully extracting it, it flew from his hand and began to measure the lioness' dimensions. The floating quill took them all down quickly, scribbling the details along the parchment.

My brothers and I smirked as the man inspected Bella's markings. His discomfort was made obvious by the distance he maintained. He had to lean forwards to see the patterns at first, reluctant as he was to get too close.

Perspiration began forming on his forehead as he next carried out a thorough dental inspection. Bella opened her jaw widely for him, revealing her three inch canines. The sight made him all the more eager to finish up as quickly as possible.

After taking down her weight, which was over three and a half the times that of her normal mass, he recorded the measurements of her tail. She didn't like that at all, and fidgeted whenever he tried to grasp it. She even whacked him in the face with it at one point, finally reaching the end of her tether.

Meanwhile, the exhauster Minister and I were engaging in a silent conversation.

_You didn't see the face of the informant in their minds?_

I shook my head. The Death Eaters had all been too focused on the task at hand to be worrying about other things. We were still no closer to discovering the cursed witch or wizard.

_At least we know they were definitely at the ball, _Kingsley reasoned. _That at least gives us a starting point._

_ But that's all, _I thought to myself. _No more clues than that._

I wasn't foolish enough to hope that Professor Trelawney would be able to give us any information. Whoever had cursed her wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave her memory untouched.

"Well, er, that's it, Miss Swan," Bizaulwax said, the relief clear in his voice. "There's only one more thing I need from you before you turn back: a signature."

He placed the parchment and the quill on the floor at her feet, indicating a dotted line in the bottom, right-hand corner. Bella stared up from the page and into the man's face, her golden eyes never moving a millimetre, even when she heard his cough of discomfort.

"Um, Mr Bizaulwax," I said eventually, holding back a chuckle, "Bella has no opposable thumbs."

"Oh… Oh, of course! I'm so sorry—stupid of me." He snatched the quill back, replacing it instead with the ink pad.

As the lioness pressed her right paw down onto it, something glittered in my periphery. From the corner of my eye, I saw Professor McGonagall, who was standing off to one side, out of the view of the others. The second Bella stamped her print onto the line, a single glistening tear spilled over onto the teacher's cheek.

She wiped it away gently a moment after, her face suddenly softer than usual.

"Congratulations, Miss Swan," Griswold said formally. "You are now a legal and fully certified Animagus."

** A/N: I really hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again to all those of you who review this story. I really appreciate it.**

** Flagello = To whip / beat. **

** Procella = Tempest / Storm / Gales.**


	19. Competitors

** A/N: Sorry about the delay. As one of my friends recently stated, illness is detrimental to my writing. I seemed to have contracted the plague. I've been dying from cold for the last week. Goodbye, cruel world! Thank you for all your comments on the last chapter. I was really happy that you seemed to enjoy Bella's transformation. More fun on the way.**

** Oh, also, I'm finally using Twitter, so if any of you are interested, I'm at: twitter (dot) com/aegiggle1 … Thanks! Enjoy.**

** BPOV**

The sky was alive with mystic purples, pulsing reds, and glorious golds, ready to welcome the new day with the wondrous display. There wasn't a cloud in sight, as of yet, for which I was extremely grateful. Despite all that, the Autumn frost hung in the air like a malicious bully, biting and nipping my skin until my fingers were raw.

I pulled my winter cloak tighter around me, stuffing my hands into the inner pockets, whilst tucking my chin beneath my thick woolen scarf.

Talto fluttered onto my shoulders, nibbling my ear affectionately.

"Hey, you," I said, smiling. "Been hunting?"

Another soft nibble.

"Have you seen Edward? He wasn't in the common room when I woke up." He and his siblings hadn't slept since the night the Death Eaters had invaded the castle. Understandably, not one of them was willing to make themselves that vulnerable now, Edward especially, who had proclaimed that protecting me would never be beyond him again.

Talto shook his head.

"I see. I wonder where he is."

"Right here," a velvety voice came from behind. I tensed, before casting a glance over my shoulder. There he stood—my vampire, casually dressed in jeans and a grey scoop-neck, looking just as glorious and lovely as ever as he flashed his crooked smile.

My heart stuttered.

"Where were you?" I inquired softly.

"Wandering the castle with the others." He came to sit by me on the bleachers, his expression peaceful as he gazed on at the sunrise. My owl hopped to his shoulder, greeting him as he had me. Edward smiled widely, and stroked Talto's breast as he continued. "I'm glad Professor McGonagall reconsidered the sleeping rule. There's so much to explore—so many new things to learn. This place is definitely a refreshing change from high school repetition."

He looked at me then, his expression suddenly intense. "Enough about that though. What are _you _doing out here? It's not even six yet, Bella."

I sighed, my eyes roaming over the Quidditch pitch.

"Thinking about the match?"

"That… amongst other things." Edward inhaled a deep breath, gently casting an arm around my shoulders. I threw him a shaky smile. "It's nothing, really. I'm the same every year. It's just—"

"Nerves," he finished. I nodded, just before he gently caught my chin with his fingertips, tilting my face until I met his gaze. "You know… the only thing anyone expects of you is for you to do your best. Whether Gryffindor win or lose—"

"I won't lose," I declared seriously, cutting him off.

His lips twitched in amusement. "Alright. What about the other things though? What else is bothering you?"

_Ha! What isn't bothering me!_

I leaned into his chest and gave a heavy sigh. "Everything. I feel as tense as a cat in a dog pound just thinking about it all. It couldn't have come at a worse time!"

Under any other circumstances, I think perhaps Edward, too, would have been displaying similar signs of stress, but with the upcoming game, he seemed more concerned with my frame of mind than anything else. He didn't want me to have to deal with all the additional anxieties when I already had all the hopes of Gryffindor pressing down upon me.

Maybe that was why he felt the need to pull me into his lap, and slide his hands up to my shoulders, which he then proceeded to massage. Slowly but surely, the tension was drained from every inch of my back, as he expertly rubbed circles against each knot. He was so good at it that I had to suppress the urge to drool, though I was powerless to prevent the occasional moan.

"How … did I … not know about this?" I all but slurred. Edward chuckled.

He started from the top of my neck, gradually working his way downwards until he reached the base of my spine, turning each bone to jelly as he moved over them with his clever thumbs. As he magically removed the support offered by my backbone, I began slumping forwards, until, finally, my face was pressed against my knees. My hands dropped limply to my sides, the tingling sensation extending all the way to my fingertips.

Once again, how could I have not known about this?! Why had I not been informed of this delicious talent before?!

Without making a conscious effort to do so, my shield slipped away. I didn't even bother trying to recall it, because I was already too busy teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Now, completely and utterly relaxed, the pull of sleep was far too great to withstand, even as the chilly morning air continued to wash against my skin.

As I drifted deeper into the dream world, the events of the last week coasted through my thoughts, and I saw flashes of everything from the battle itself to its aftermath.

Cackling figures loomed before my eyes, their bodies covered with black slithering snakes, which hissed ominously upon catching sight of me. Suddenly, the shapes transformed, the sinister men forming the dark trunks of a thick forest, whilst the deadly reptiles twisted into leafless branches, like thousands of contorted fingers.

The woodland was like a cage, the trees positioned so close together that there was little to separate them from the bars of a prison cell, impossible to manoeuvre through. Nevertheless, I tried, but only ended up getting scratched by the sharp snake-like branches.

A low growl from behind halted my efforts, and I turned to see a magnificent white lioness, with eyes as golden as the sunrise, stalking forwards. I felt no fear as she approached, only a profound relief.

She gently butted my hand with the crown of her head as I held it out to her, and for the briefest moment, my fingers seemed to merge with her skin, as if sewn in place by some invisible thread.

The lioness directed one last look at me, seeming to smile almost, before she leapt forwards to the nearest tree, and swiped at the thick trunk with her deadly steel-like claws. The trunk was sliced in half immediately, and toppled backwards onto another, which fell too with the weight of the collision, a chain reaction now set in motion. One by one, the black columns fell, clearing a pathway out of the forest.

I followed after the deadly feline, climbing over the trees she'd severed. Horror swirled in my stomach as I realised they were bleeding, each stump oozing a sweet-smelling, crimson sap. It transferred onto my clothing as I brushed against it, and stained the lioness' beautiful snowy coat.

She turned as I hesitated, her eyes expressive enough to convey her thoughts.

_You would've died in there. Someone had to fall. Would you rather it had been you?_

A shiver ran through me as I looked down at the ground; the blood was seeping onto the grass and moss beneath my feet, dyeing it red, until no trace of the previous emerald tones was left. The lioness was right; it could've been my blood staining the landscape. I was abruptly glad that it wasn't.

The lioness was still waiting for a response. "No," I told her.

Immediately, she turned, resuming her walk towards the edge of the forest.

We exited onto the top of a huge valley. The opposite slope was lush with greenery and flowers: dahlias, foxgloves, hydrangea, campanula, lilies and delphinium covered the lower half, sweeping upwards into acres of purple heather, which looked lovely against the endless stretch of blue sky. It differed greatly from the side I was standing on, which was barren in comparison, nothing but a few dead bushes scattered over a muddy decline. Separating the two halves was a crimson river, which ran directly down the middle of the valley.

As I looked down, I discerned a figure sat beside it. The person had their back to me, their face hidden from view, though I guessed it was a woman, judging by the loosely curled, golden locks cascading down her back.

Curious, I made my way down the slope towards her, the lioness moving at my side.

"I can't get across," she wept desolately, sensing my presence. "I can't reach him."

"Reach who?"

"I can't reach him," she said again, extending an arm out to no one in particular.

As I reached the woman's side, I realised who she was. Rosalie's golden eyes were overflowing with tears, and seemed to be looking at something far off on the other side of the river.

I squinted at the peak of the valley, surprised when I caught a small dark splash against the heather.

A tiny boy was peeping out from it. He was only a toddler, and was by far the most beautiful child I'd ever seen. His head was covered in a mass of thick, brown curls; two violet eyes were encrusted into shimmering skin, which was so pale, for the most part, that it rivalled the vampire's beside me. The only difference was the faint pink tinting his cheeks. His eyelids were a soft lilac, like the sky before the sunrise.

The boy waved from his hiding spot, smiling suddenly to reveal a row of perfect, snowy teeth, which glistened as they reflected the light. Rosalie whimpered once more.

"I can't reach him."

It was in that moment that I knew I was dreaming, for the scene triggered a memory of a conversation I had had with Rose a couple of days following the battle. After the trauma brought on by her dream, she'd asked to speak with me alone. We'd ended up at the top of the Astronomy Tower, sat side by side, our backs to the parapet.

_"I know this is probably a vain hope, Bella, but … ever since you opened our eyes to magic__—__showed us that it does exist, after all__—__I've always wondered whether … whether there's a possibility that I could ..."_

_ I sighed, closing my eyes as she trailed off. They flashed open as I felt a set of cold fingers weave through my warm ones. Rosalie smiled at me sadly, seeming to know already what my answer would be._

_ "I'm sorry," I told her, devastated that I had to be the one to deliver this crushing news, "but, as far as I know, there is no cure for vampirism."_

_Her expression became even more forlorn, her eyes suddenly swimming with invisible tears. I clutched her hand tighter, wishing there was more I could have done to comfort her._

_ "I'd guessed as much," she whispered. "Time's the one keeping me prisoner, after all. What magic is there that can overcome it?"_

_I could've told her at that point that there was in fact such a thing. It wouldn't have mattered though; there was no way a Time-Turner necklace would be enough to solve her problems._

_ "So there's no hope, then. I'll never be a mother." She leaned into me, as if suddenly needing the support. I put my arm around her cold shoulders._

_ "I wouldn't say that," I murmured, feeling her stiffen. I bit my lip, realising I had to continue carefully. "If there's anything I've learnt over the years, it's that nothing is impossible."__Edward's reunion with his mother, and Harry's return from the dead, had proved that. _

_ "Maybe there's magic out there__—__undiscovered and waiting__—__that could give you what you want. I can't promise it, and I don't want to give you false hope, Rosalie, but if a solution does exist, you won't find it in the Muggle world."_

_ My words seemed to console her a fraction. She gave a small smile as she sat up, and said, "Thank you, Bella. That was nice to hear. I know it'll probably never happen, but just to have the slightest hope is more than I ever had before." Her eyes held a kindness and deep sincerity as she continued. "Once upon a time, I never would've believed I'd say this, but I really am glad that Edward found you. All of our lives have improved so drastically because of it."_

_ "And your feelings about him changing me;" I questioned tentatively, "have they changed?"_

_ Her face fell instantly, causing my stomach to clench. "That's … a little difficult to answer."_

_ For the longest time, she didn't speak, so I twiddled my thumbs nervously as I waited for her silence to break. I must have spent at least a minute tracing my eyes over the cracks in the stone floor before she began issuing her reshaped opinion._

_ "I think I finally understand Edward's point of view. I want you in the family for certain, and knowing what you bring to it, selfishly, I can't deny that I'd prefer your time with us to extend beyond the normal human life-span …"_

_ "But?"_

_ "But it doesn't make it right," she said sadly, shaking her head. "It's a selfish wish, one which I want for myself and my family, Edward especially … but I want so much more for _you, _Bella. I want you to have what I can't."_

_ "I can understand that," I nodded, relieved that she wasn't totally opposed to my becoming a vampire. I looked at her beseechingly then. "I can't give him up, though, Rosalie. I could never live without Edward."_

_ "I know," she sighed. "I wouldn't expect you to any more. Being the way that I am, I sometimes forget that what would've been right for me isn't always necessarily the right thing for everybody else. I suppose it's easier to give up something you've never had than something you love more than you're own life."_

_ After a moment of silence, I worked up the courage to ask her whether we'd still be friends once I was finally immortal._

_ She smiled gently, and in that, I knew I had my answer._

The memory faded, and I was faced once again with the disturbing valley setting.

"I can't get across," the dream Rosalie wailed, louder this time, her desperate eyes locked on the child at the top of the valley, who continued to smile down at her, adoration stamped across his beautiful face.

It wasn't until the vampire began thrashing wildly that I realised her body was wrapped in chains. From each one hung a pocket-watch, each individual in style and size, some silver, some gold, and some bronze. The only thing any of them had in common was that none of their hands were moving, all creepily reading the same time: thirteen minutes past one.

A small giggle distracted me from the alarming image of the incarcerated woman, pulling my focus across the river once more. I searched for the source, aware that it had to be closer than the boy hiding in the heather. Another bell-like laugh chimed through the air. It was high and clear, musical even, and altogether lovely.

My eyes caught a flash of bronze by the river bank. It disappeared into the dahlia bushes, however, before I could make out who it belonged to. Though I couldn't see the mystery person, I could tell the direction they were moving in, for their run disturbed the tall, spherical blooms, all of which were ruffled in succession, as if committing to some kind of Mexican-Wave.

"Hello?" I called, running parallel to the movement.

Another giggle echoed from across the river. The rustling stopped, thereby ending my chase. Walking as close to the ledge as I dared, I strained up on my tiptoes for a glimpse of the owner of the pealing laugh.

"Hello?" I said again, scanning the opposite bank.

Suddenly, a tiny face poked out from between a growth of blue and purple delphinium spires. I felt my jaw drop at the beauty before me.

The little girl could have been no older than two, yet her speed had been beyond that of an adult human. Her big, chocolate eyes, whilst happy and playful, also suggested intelligence and understanding. Like the beautiful boy, the little girl's white skin shimmered like pearl, her cheeks infused with a soft rose. A fountain of bronze curls spilled down around her perfect, cherubic face. She was by far the loveliest thing I had ever seen.

My awe increased as she pulled her pale, pink lips into a smile, revealing a tiny set of milk teeth, each whiter than the veneers celebrities paid through the nose to obtain.

An unexpected longing overwhelmed me in an instant, and I wanted nothing more than to dive into river and swim to the child on the other side.

The revulsion triggered by the blood was the only thing that stopped me.

_It's the only way we'll reach her, _the lioness said with her expressive eyes, coming to sit beside me. _There's no bridge… no other way to cross._

"I don't like blood," I answered."I don't want to swim in it.

_Then we'll have to stay on this side of the valley. _The giant feline lowered herself onto her belly, laying out in the mud.

"But the girl—"

_Is beyond your reach. You can't have it both ways._

"So what," I demanded, a little frustrated, "I either jump in and get my hands dirty, or stay here forever?"

_Yup, _said the lioness, not fazed by the idea of diving into the current. _Try not to take too long convincing yourself though. I'm bored and I don't have forever._

I was just about to retort when a far-off echo interrupted me.

"Bella … time to wake up."

The valley scene faded out, replaced by blackness, which gradually opened up into a set of green, sparkling eyes.

"Bella."

I groaned quietly and clamped my eyes shut, wriggling further into Edward's embrace.

"You need to get up now, love," he said, his gentle tone not particularly effective in this case; if anything, it pushed me back towards sleep. It was a little louder when he next spoke though, and I remembered then that my defences were down. "It's breakfast time. You don't want to miss it the day of your first match, do you?"

_Grr. I feel drowsy. This is your fault Mr. I'm-so-good-with-my-hands-I-can-lull-Bella-into-sleep. I was wide awake earlier._

He chuckled at my thoughts, at which point, something new occurred to me. My eyes snapped open and my defences shot up.

"Were you listening in on my dream?"

His smile dropped immediately as a series of different emotions crossed his face: guilt, worry, sadness, confusion…

He looked over my head to where his siblings were standing, and for the first time, I registered the fact that we were in the Gryffindor common room. Edward must have carried me up here whilst I'd been sleeping.

"Would you mind giving us a minute, please?" They nodded. And headed towards the portrait hole, filing out in silence.

"Sure," my vampire said, answering some unvoiced thought. My brow furrowed questioningly; he noticed and enlightened me. "They're going to wait for us in the Grand Hall."

"Oh." It was a lame response, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. I was suddenly extremely nervous about how Edward would interpret the bizarre workings of my mind.

"I hadn't anticipated how colourful and vivid your dreams would be, Bella." He shook his head, a crease appearing between his eyes. "Or how… intuitive."

_Intuitive? _"How did you come to that conclusion? It was just a senseless jumble—just my mind trying to work through everything that's happened."

"I'm not so sure of that." He pursed his lips as he deliberated how to continue, before pinching the bridge of his nose and, eventually, sighing. "The clocks attached to the chains … you remember?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"They all read thirteen minutes past one; I heavily doubt that was coincidence."

"What are you talking about?" my voice shrill with anxiety. "Edward!"

"It's just that … that was the exact minute that Rosalie's heart stopped beating." A shiver suddenly ripped down my spine, whilst goosebumps broke out over my skin. "I take it she didn't inform you of that little detail?"

I shook my head, attempting to compose my expression. Why would she have?

"So you _see _things too." Edward stated. "Does that happen often?"

"I-it's not entirely unheard of for witches and wizards, and … I suppose you could say I've had 'intuitive' dreams before.

"Before the match at the Quidditch World Cup, when I fell asleep in the bath tub, I dreamt that I was battering a wasps' nest with a broomstick."

A small smile crept its way onto his face then. "Note to self: Bella's psychic window occurs on match mornings."

I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. "Wait, wait," I said playfully, holding up one hand, whilst pressing the other to my left temple. "I think I'm getting something! I see myself being kissed by an insanely beautiful and perfect vampire in the imminent future."

Undesirably, Edward pulled back a little, rather than meeting my lips with his, instead casting glances around the room. "Tut, tut, Miss Swan," he teased. "I'm very sorry, but I see no 'perfect' vampire anywhere. You're going to have to refocus your inner-eye if you hope to rival Alice."

Lacing one hand through his messy bronze hair, whilst using the other to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, I tugged him towards me with one forceful pull. "Shut up and kiss me, Cullen."

Turns out I am a psychic after all.

**EPOV**

I turned into the Grand Hall with Bella, my fingers entwined with hers. Dozens of heads turned to stare at us, or her, rather. Though the students had exhausted the gossip of her Animagus status days ago, their fascination had yet to wane. She received more respect now than ever before from the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students; the Slytherins, not stupid enough to antagonise her as they once had, simply tried to pretend she didn't exist.

This morning, of course, was a little different, being the first game of the season. They hissed as we passed, some unable to resist throwing a few jeers her way.

"Ignore them," she insisted, sensing my anger. "They're the same every Gryffindor play. Even the fear of vampires wouldn't be able to shut them up on a day like today."

I grunted my displeasure, but kept my mouth shut nonetheless. It seemed as if I was doing that a lot today. During the conversation regarding Bella's dream, I'd desperately wanted to bring up the topic of the bronze-haired little girl. The moment I'd seen her, my heart had suffered a painful stab, one which had only grown more excruciating when Bella had chased after her.

I suspected more than anything the strikingly beautiful child was a product of her subconscious desires. My sister's plight had forced her to consider her own wishes, and what had just transpired was all the proof I needed that Bella would want the very same thing someday.

Yet I would be snatching that possibility away from her.

That knowledge set me aching in the very deepest places of my soul. If I hadn't known already that Bella would find some alternative way to achieve the transformation, regardless, I would have implored her to reconsider her decision. At least, that's what I told myself. The truth was I'd accepted how completely and wholly selfish I was a very long time ago.

And so, I'd kept my mouth shut, determined to hide my sudden depression from the girl who already had enough to stress about. There was no need to add any additional pressure on the opening day of the Hogwarts' Quidditch season.

"Ready for the big game?" Emmett asked as we took our seats, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. I was glad that his move was finally back to normal—he'd openly sulked for an entire week after sleeping through the battle, but it looked as though the impending sporting event had filled him with considerable cheer.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Bella said flatly, staring down at her toast, which was looking at with as much distaste as a vampire would.

"Bella," Alice warned, "you have to eat. You'll need your strength today."

The girl huffed, but did as my sister advised.

The post arrived as she took her last bite, dozens of owls swooping down to deposit their deliveries. Hermione caught a rolled up Prophet dropped by a jittery Screech. It's eyes kept flying to my family and me as it waited for payment. The second the knuts were in the pouch attached to its leg, it took off into the air, flying away at full speed.

I listened to the witch's thoughts as she read the news, taking in the latest on the recent goings-on.

The headline read: _DOUBLE DUTY FOR DEDICATED MINISTER!_

Below was a photograph of a very tense looking Kingsley, stood alongside two men. I recognised one of them from the ball: Alpheus, the auburn haired man who had been standing alongside Kingsley during Brone's outburst. His expression was just as vacant in the picture as it had been that night.

The second man had a mop of dark, wavy hair. He had a lean frame, and a smooth complexion, looking to be in his late twenties. He wore a very pleasant smile as he amicably grasped the Minister's shoulder.

_Following attacks on Britain's magical and non-magical communities, including the recent invasion of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, yesterday revealed his intention to continue in leading the Auror Office until the Death Eater terrorists are brought to justice._

_ Although his dedication to the protection of society is both noble and impressive, it begs the question of whether these additional efforts will lead to a neglect of his Ministerial duties._

_ When questioned, Shacklebolt stated, "I want to assure everyone that I shall continue to perform my role as Minister to the best of my ability in the coming months. The safety of innocent witches and wizards, however, is, as always, the main priority, and with the experience I have amassed over the years as an Auror, I believe my time would be best spent leading the defensive departments until the fugitives have been captured."_

_ It goes without saying that the Minister's decision has been influenced by the growing distrust within the Auror office. His increased presence will not only enable him to take a more active part in the current operation, but shall also allow for a closer monitoring of his employees. _

_ As of yet, no indication has been given on who shall be granted the position of Head Auror once the mission has reached its close, but the candidates remain the same._

_ Though Alpheus Truman was initially the leading competitor, following his incredible contribution during the reign of He Who Must Not Be Named, his performance during recent raids has given an edge to rivalling wizards. Sources have revealed that Truman was responsible for hospitalising colleague, Douglas Twiddle, who was hit with a spell supposedly intended for a Death Eater._

I tensed upon hearing this news. It had to have taken place after Fulplume had discovered the Death Eaters' newest hideout. After she'd arrived back at the school, I had learnt from her thoughts that she'd successfully tracked Crabbe to a hamlet near Loch Ness.

Unfortunately, the Minister had left only minutes before her return. He'd said that he'd wanted to visit Molly and Arthur Weasley before the news of the attack got out, afraid of the panic they'd suffer after already having lost one of their sons to the Death Eaters. Better to assure Mrs. Weasley immediately of Ron's and Ginny's safety.

McGonagall had notified him of Fulplume's discovery immediately, travelling to the Burrow via the Floo Network.

A day later, an article had appeared in the paper, telling of the subsequent fight between Aurors and the Death Eaters. Apparently, the villains had just begun fleeing their hideout when the law enforcers had arrived. Another tip-off, though there had only been limited time to deliver it, since the Minister had ordered a quick attack.

Unfortunately, however, none of the Death Eaters had been captured. What made it doubly frustrating was that those that had been during the most recent Hogwarts battle had been no help at all. When interrogated, they'd insisted that they didn't know who the informant was. They were telling the truth. It turned out that the leaders had decided against sharing such details with their newest recruits. It was considered too much of a risk for so many to possess that kind of information, especially when there were sure to be captives taken at some point.

I wasn't sure what to make of Alpheus' badly aimed spell. It did seem a little suspicious. A fully qualified Auror should not have been careless enough to hit his own team. And yet … a feeling in my gut told me that he was innocent, even though I hadn't been able to read his thoughts when I'd met him. He was an Occlumens. His scent didn't match that of the man who had attacked Bella though, which reassured me.

I continued to ponder this as I listened to the rest of the article, still focusing in on Hermione's mind.

_Iago Callidon, nicknamed 'Saber' by his colleagues for the sword-like sheath in which he carries his wand, is proving to be a more than worthy contender for the role of Head Auror. After Truman's mistake, the responsibility of protecting the injured wizard fell to Saber, who skilfully fended off dangerous mass-murderers, Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood._

_ Whatever Shacklebolt's decision, it's clear that he won't be sharing it until after the crisis has past. Let's hope that happens soon. Until then, Witches and Gentle-wizards, please place your bets!_

I frowned at the article's closing line. It seemed an extremely callous end to a rather serious issue. Had the writer forgotten about the deaths that had occurred as a result of the ongoing conflict?

Hermione slammed the paper down, her thoughts similar to mine.

"Woz wong?" Ron asked through a mouthful of egg and bacon.

"Oh, nothing. Just the news putting a damper on my day."

After a mighty swallow, Ron kissed her on the cheek, and said, "We'll have you smiling by the afternoon. Right, Harry?"

"Right," Harry agreed, grinning widely. His sunny expression faded as he looked over at Bella, who looked a little green by this point. "Deep breaths, Bella. And stop worrying. You know you're always great once you're out on the pitch."

Ron frowned. "I can never understand it. How can someone so nimble get such insane stage fright."

"This is Bella," Ginny chuckled. "It's part of her yearly routine."

"I suppose. Well, at least we're kicking off the season against Ravenclaw, rather than Slytherin, Bells. You'll be all warmed up for the final match!"

Though we should've been competing against Slytherin today, as was tradition for the first game of the year, the recent attack on Draco had made that impossible. The Death Eaters had whipped the poor boy to within an inch of his life, their lashings sinking through every layer of skin, cutting into his muscle like knives. One had been so forceful that it had even punctured his lungs. I hadn't known that magical whipping could do that, but, according to Hermione, the flagellation he had suffered was a milder form of the Sectumsempra Curse, thereby causing more damage than what could be achieve through the old punishing instruments. Because these lashes were also the product of a curse, they were not only fatal if left untreated (the victim in danger of bleeding to death), but also took a considerable time to heal, even with the help of magic.

As a result, Draco was still recovering in the hospital wing, leaving the Slytherin team without their Seeker. No one had argued this time when McGonagall had postponed our match against Slytherin until the end of the year, unlike we had after the incident with Buckbeak, the Hippogriff. Unfortunately for Draco, he wasn't faking.

And so our game against Ravenclaw had been brought forward. We would play the blue and white team early, and the green and silver one at the season's end, in the final, deciding match.

"Don't get complacent just because we're not starting with the main competitors," Bella practically growled. "Ravenclaw are a decent side."

"She's right," said Emmett, who leant across the table in his enthusiasm for the topic. "You're going to have to watch yourself, Ron. You'll be alright if Bella, Ginny and Viola can keep the Quaffle out of their hands, but if they happen to bring it into your half, be ready.

"The females, Su Li and Morag McDougal, are very small, both in height and overall body mass, so whilst they may not be on the same level as our girls, they have less wind resistance to deal with than the other players. Su is the fastest of the two; she owns the newest Nimbus release: the Two Thousand and Two.

"It can do nought to a hundred and thirty in ten seconds. It's strong as well—made from Turkish maple."

Jasper took over then. "Morag's rides a Two Thousand and One, and although she's not as quick as Su, she has a mean swerve on her. Now, Thackary Teddington, the third Chaser, is in Ginny's year. He's not quite as nimble or quick as the other two, but he's got a strong arm for a human, so watch yourself if he gets into the shooting area."

"How d'you know all this?" Ron questioned suddenly, surprised by the extent of the vampires' knowledge.

My brothers exchanged a pair of mischievous smiles, providing Ginny with a strong reminder of Fred and George. She smiled sadly, but refused to be submerged in depression.

"Whenever the other Houses are out practising, we sneak to the top of the Astronomy Tower and watch them play," Emmett confessed. "It's a decent view if you happen to be a vampire."

Ron wasn't the only one to sit a little straighter upon hearing this news, nor was he the only one who was suddenly giving the boys his whole attention.

"Easy to discern what's being said as well," Jasper smirked, "when you have hearing like ours."

"Tell us _everything _you know!" Harry and Bella demanded together.

I felt my lips spreading into a diabolical grin, just like those of my brothers' as I read their thoughts. The three of us leaned in closer, like the most proficient secret agents, and launched into hurried whisperings and confident explanations, passing on the intelligence that would bring Gryffindor one step closer to victory.

*

The sky was a blue blanket dotted in places with patches of puffy white. The air was surprisingly still for November, with not even the hint of a breeze; still, that fact did little for my nerves. It was one thing to see Bella zooming around unobstructed, sometimes more than a hundred feet above the ground. It was another thing entirely to think of her having to weave past half a dozen fast moving obstacles at the same height.

I'd concealed my own emotions from her early, determined not to increase her anxiety further. In truth though, I was a nervous wreck.

My family and I walked down to the pitch with the rest of the Gryffindor crowd. Bella and the others had left us earlier to go and get changed. The house had clapped the team as they'd walked the length of the Great Hall towards the doors, loudly showing their support.

"Good luck, you lot," Neville had waved.

"Yeah," called Seamus, "do us proud!" _Or I'll lose a galleon to Michael Corner._

Carlisle and Esme walked beside us as we filed into the stadium. They both looked equally excited for the game, confident in Gryffindor's ability.

"Will you be sitting with us?" Hermione asked them, smiling politely.

Esme chuckled, shaking her head. "As lovely as that would be, Dear, Carlisle and I will be sitting with Emmett in the teachers' box. I'm sure you've already heard that he'll be doing the commentary." She smiled knowingly at the vampire in question. _It's lovely that he's found something he's enthusiastic about, but, really … I hope Minerva knows what she's letting herself in for._

"Ah," Hermione said, catching my mother's drift. "Um, yes … I had heard."

"I hope we're not going to be hearing any biased comments," Carlisle remarked pointedly, though amused, his sapphire eyes on Emmett, who blinked with false innocence.

My parents set off climbing the stairs to the right. Emmett made to follow them, turning before he left, his angelic little display now abandoned as he wiggled his eyebrows at us like a black-hat villain. I shook my head and laughed as he disappeared from view.

Jasper, Rose, Alice and I seated ourselves halfway up the stand with Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Five minutes later, a rosy faced Hagrid arrived next to us, after shuffling through the lines of excited, eager students.

Alice's smile slid off her face, though she quickly hid her disappointment, not wanting to seem impolite. Though she liked the half giant as she did most people, my sister hated the resulting blindness his proximity brought. She'd wanted clear vision today, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen now.

"Hello, Hermione," Hagrid greeted cheerfully, before his eyes travelled over the rest of us, and nodded. "Alright, you lot?"

"Hello, Hagrid," I smiled.

"Yer excited fer the match?"

"Absolutely. It'll be the first one that I _really _get to see Bella play."

Hagrid's face lit up like a bright-eyed child's, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Aye, yer've got a good un there, Edward. As fiery as an Ashwinder out there on the pitch. You watch."

I grinned. "I intend to."

When the stands were finally full, I decided to peek at the goings on of the Gryffindor changing room. The players would all be ready by now, surely. I was right. They were all sat there on the benches in their Quidditch robes, excluding Harry, who was pacing backwards and forwards, Firebolt in hand.

"Alright, so you all know the drill. We have to go out there, stay focused, and win. Bella, Ginny, Viola: remember the Cullens' warning. If anyone has the guts to call Ravenclaw's bluff, it's you three. You up to it?"

"You know it," Viola grinned.

"What she said," agreed Ginny.

Harry nodded his approval. "And you Jimmy, Amicus … you two ready?"

"As ever!" the third-year boy exclaimed excitedly.

"Great. Ron?" Harry's friend had lost his joking, easy attitude. He now wore a very serious expression, his blue eyes hard like sapphires.

Ron nodded, but that was all the response he gave.

Bella possessed a similar look, reminding me of the way she had appeared during try-outs. Her mind wasn't locked as I'd expected it to be. Instead, I kept catching snippets of thought. It sounded similar to a radio with a bad reception.

_Won't stop … see if they … we barrel …_

Well, this was new. I felt my stony brow crease with confusion.

Harry stopped his pacing as his gaze caught on Bella's face. Suddenly, I understood.

The girl's eyes were shifting peculiarly. One second they were a rich chocolate, the next, they were a molten gold.

"You okay, Bella?"

A very distinct growl.

The others jumped, whilst their captain took a step back, his hands raised defensively.

Bella's expression immediately turned sheepish. She coughed as if to clear her throat, and said, "Sorry … Must be the nerves."

So, the lioness was lurking close to the surface, was she? Were there other instincts that brought her out, other than the urge to protect? Animals were competitive by nature. They had to be to survive. This wouldn't be the first time that Bella had had to fight to control her second shape.

McGonagall had assured her that the side effects of the first transformation would pass soon enough once she had gotten used to being an Animagus. It was a natural reaction to want to transform in dangerous or excited times. Eventually, however, the witch or wizard developed a good enough understanding of such impulses that they were able to override them.

Bella was still learning. She'd all but bitten Ron's head off the last time he'd tried to steal one of her Jolly Beans. We'd been in the common room, and he'd absently reached for one of the pieces of candy which Bella had spilled out onto the desk. Instinctively, she'd swiped his hand away, her nails lengthening into those deadly claws. Ron had yelped loudly as she'd caught him, a series of angry red lines suddenly decorating the skin between his knuckles and wrist.

Emmett and Jaz had hooted for a good five minutes, whilst Bella had spent the entire time apologising, offering Ron not just one Jolly Bean, but her entire bagful. He'd politely declined, eyes wide as he backed away towards his sister, who was in possession of a packet of Ice Mice. He stole one of her sweets instead. Though she grumbled, her reaction wasn't quite as strong as Bella's had been, for which Ron was extremely grateful.

"You're going to have to keep that under control today, Bells," Harry said cautiously. "I don't think a lioness would have much luck on a broomstick."

Bella nodded, blushing under the wary gazes of her team mates.

Their ears pricked abruptly as a repeated chant broke through the room, echoing from outside. I smiled as I scanned the stadium.

On the side loaded with witches and wizards sporting scarves of blue or green, came the cheer for the rival team. "RA-VEN-CLAW! RA-VEN-CLAW!"

In our half, however, the red and yellow scarves were cheering even louder, determined to outdo the competitors. "GRYF-FIN-DOR! GRYF-FIN-DOR!"

"Hear that, men?" asked Ron. Ginny coughed. "And women. That's us they're calling for."

"Right," said Harry, "let's not disappoint them."

And with that, he led his players out of the changing rooms, the three Chasers lined together behind him, the Keeper in between the two Beaters at the back. The seven students marched out onto the pitch to a chorus of screams and cheers, never breaking their formation until they reached the centre of the field, where they met Madam Hooch and their opposition.

"It's finally here!" Alice squealed, tugging on my t-shirt in delight. "COME ON, BELLA!"

Another voice, however, was the one that suddenly drowned out all others. "Witches and wizards, and super-awesome vampires, of course—"

"It's started," Jasper groaned, his eyes on the teachers' box, where our dear brother was staring down, eyes bright and childlike in their excitement.

"—the teams are out and ready for the off!"

"Bless him," the Empath chuckled playfully.

"He's in his element," I laughed in response.

"Like a big kid."

Down on the pitch, Harry was shaking hands with Mason Bryx, the Ravenclaw Keeper and Captain. Bryx was a head taller than Harry, though he was just as lean. I wondered whether that would hinder his balance at all.

"Now I want no dirty play from any of you," said Madam Hooch. She seemed to be speaking more to Bella than anyone else, which made me smile even more. _ I suppose it's the Gryffindor-Slytherin match I'll have to worry about more than anything …_

That last thought hadn't done much to convince her.

"Mount your brooms!" She lifted her whistle to her lips, her wand pointed at the crate at her feet.

The Chasers seemed to have picked out an opponent each. Morag McDougal was glaring at Ginny, whilst Su Li was sizing up Viola. Thackary Teddington was staring directly at Bella, his silver-grey eyes hard, though amused.

"Ready, Swan?"

Bella released a brief, humourless laugh. "Are you?"

"For you? Always." He winked.

The wooden rail I clutched splintered suddenly under the strength of the green-eyed monster. My mouth popped open as Bella smiled in response, batting her eye lashes at Ravenclaw's biggest heartthrob, whom all the blue-scarfed girls seemed to be swooning over.

Thackary's eyes bulged, as did mine, as Bella blew a subtle kiss at him. My siblings stiffened at my side. Something clenched inside me.

The whistle pierced the air.

"GRYFFINDOR SEIZES THE QUAFFLE!" Emmett boomed hysterically. "A nice tactic there by Swan! Dazzling her naïve, pubescent rival!"

"EMMETT!"

"Sorry, Mom."

Jasper laughed out loud. _Wow. She was playing dirty even before the game started._

The relief was lovely and absolute. Now I was the one laughing, unable to believe that my sweet, blushing Bella would employ such methods to achieve her ends. When she'd launched into the air to take possession for Gryffindor, Thackary was left behind on the ground, thoroughly dazzled, as my brother had so adequately put it.

"The Gryffindor minx speeds down the pitch—passes to Ginny Weasley after being cut off by Su Li—now to Viola and—no, Thackary Teddington is back with a vengeance—he intercepts and throws to Morag McDougal—now back to Teddington—but, oooooh, intercepted by Bella Swan, who zooms away, the two other Gryffindor Chasers joining her in the arrowhead formation!"

"THIS IS TEN TIMES BETTER THAN TRYOUTS!" Alice screamed as the girls streaked past us, the air whistling with their speed.

"They're coming up to the goal posts now—Ravenclaw Beater, Stewart Ackerley, whacks a Bludger at the girls—Jimmyn Peakes sends it ba—OUCH—too bad, McDougal—she takes a hit to the shoulder, BUT WEASLEY AND KNIGHT PULL BACK AS SWAN SOARS INTO THE SCORING AREA!"

Could a vampire be sick? I felt like I was about to be.

"She aims—come on, now, Bella—look at the spin on that Quaffle—Bryx dives—misses—SHE SCORES! BELLA SWAN TAKES THE FIRST GOAL! YOU GO, GIRL! HELL YES!"

"YEAH!" my siblings and I sang together. The red-scarves were going wild. Seamus and Dean were bouncing like kangaroos, their arms shooting into the air. Neville and Hermione were clapping loudly.

"Yes! Come on, Bells!" I heard Ron cheer.

A hundred feet above the ground, Harry was celebrating with a quick loop-the-loop, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be searching for the Snitch. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. He'd been looking in the wrong direction before the goal.

As a displeased Mason Bryx launched the Quaffle to his team mate, Emmett resumed his commentary. "The ball is back in play—Li rockets along like a twisting bullet—passes to Teddington who dodges a Bludger—and a second one from young Amicus Fortison! What a swing! Now there's a grizzly in the making!"

Now that Ravenclaw was in possession, the Gryffindor Chasers locked on target like frenzied bees to honey, shooting after the Quaffle with such force that they swept up a wind as they passed us. Teddington flew to the left as Ginny came at him from the right, ducking close to the ground to avoid colliding with Viola, only that forced him straight into Bella's path, who was flying at him head on.

I watched entranced as her eyes shifted into gold orbs rimmed with black. She was flying so fast that the human spectators never would have caught the change. Only the Ravenclaw Chaser hurtling directly towards her noticed. He clutched the Quaffle tighter to his chest as he rocketed upwards into the air.

Bella waited until he was directly overhead, and then she released a deafening roar, seeming to smile as she did so.

Thackary yelped and bucked, subsequently losing his hold on the ball.

"Knight swoops down and steals the Quaffle," Emmett yelled in exhiliration, "after a pathetic fail by Teddington, who clearly can't handle strong women—"

"Emmett," my mother warned, thoroughly exasperated.

"—so for all you feisty females who prefer the hands of an intense, manly, and confident—"

"EMMETT MCCARTY CULLEN!"

"Moving swiftly on—"

_Thank god, _thought Jasper, who was suddenly being assaulted by a stadium of mounting hormones. Girls everywhere were loosening their scarves, some fanning their faces after listening to my brother's little speech. I did my best to block the thoughts of the swooners, but it wasn't exactly easy.

Rosalie seemed to sense their attraction. Her smile was slightly arrogant, knowing as she did that Emmett would never be able to drag his eyes from her beauty to favour another woman.

"The girls fly down the pitch towards the goalposts—Swan and Weasley ready to defend Knight—but Ravenclaw Chasers and Beaters speed ahead in the hopes of cutting them off—and, OH, the Ravenclaw players flip backwards, barrelling towards Gryffindor just as the New Zealanders did in the World Cup Final against South Africa!"

This was the move Emmett and Jasper had warned of. The Ravenclaw captain had instructed his players to practise it dozens of times, and the boys had seen the flying blockade in action during one of their spying sessions. They would swerve at the last minute, but their intention was to scatter the opposition. They had no idea the girls were prepared.

"The Gryffindor Chasers streak towards the Ravenclaws—no sign of stopping—this doesn't look good for the blues, who seem to be having their bluff called by the fearless three! Who's more gutsy? Who will pull out first?!"

The expressions of the Ravenclaws transformed from confident to horrified in a heartbeat. The two sides crashed towards each other at blinding speed, neither seeming willing to withdraw from the charge.

It was only when Bella cried, _"Faster!" _that the Ravenclaws began to reconsider.

_They're not going to stop! _thought the Beater Steven Cornfoot. _They're speeding up!_

The Gryffindor Chasers were only a few metres away when the rival line dipped down, the scatterers now the scatterees.

"Swan and Weasley fly off to the sides as Knight speeds forward—she shoots—SCORE! TWENTY – NIL TO GRYFFINDOR AFTER MASON BRYX DIVES IN THE TOTALLY WRONG DIRECTION! And that's the first match goal for little Viola—let's hope there'll be lots more to—ooh, what's this? McDougal and Teddington seem to be arguing with the Ref—and here come Bella and Ginny to join the dispute!"

"They were Blatching!" an enraged Thackary spat at Madam Hooch. "Flying with intent to collide!"

"We were Blatching?!" Bella screeched with equal fury. "You started it, you bloody pillock!"

"Wo-o-ooh!" laughed Emmett. "Some very nice language there from my future sister-in-law! Who would've thought?"

I chuckled along with my siblings.

"She does have a bit of a temper, doesn't she?" Alice laughed, as Bella and Ginny hurled more abuse at the protesting Ravenclaws. Ron came to back up his sister and friend, pointing a finger at Thackary Teddington, who, by all rights, should have had smoke bursting from his ears.

"I'm sorry Mr Teddington," Madam Hooch said, not seeming sorry at all, "but since you and your team mates were the ones to initiate the charge, your complaint is invalid. That's my final word! The score stands twenty-nil to Gryffindor."

The Ravenclaws were red in the face as they flew away, each bubbling with anger. Before she allowed the Gryffindors to leave too, Madam Hooch gave Bella a warning for her earlier tactics.

"Now, I don't think there's anything in the rule books which forbids making animal noises, Miss Swan, but I would appreciate it if you could save the growling for alternative activities."

The humans had no way of hearing this little exchange, but, unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for my amused brother, who seemed to think the opportunity too good to pass up on.

"Translation: save it for Edward. He's into—" Thankfully, my mother was in possession of a rolled up newspaper. She took the opportunity to forcefully whack Emmett over the head with it. Though there's was no way it could've hurt him, the paper tore in a hundred pieces, the individual bits floating away into the air.

Gryffindor scored another two goals—one by Ginny, and another by Bella—before Ravenclaw scored their first. It came after Jimmy Peakes flew into Teddington, knocking the boy off course when he was just about to shoot the Quaffle. Madam Hooch had awarded Ravenclaw a penalty, which was taken successfully, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The girls took another three goals before Ravenclaw scored their second, and by the time Ravenclaw had earned sixty points, we were already on a hundred and ten.

The blues committed their first foul as Bella shot forth to claim the twelfth goal. As she zoomed towards the hoops, Stewart Ackerley 'accidentally' lobbed his bat at her broom, knocking her off balance. She flew into Viola, and the two fell at top speed towards the ground.

Though they fortunately managed to put themselves right before they could break every bone in their bodies, one of Viola's flailing fists smashed against Bella's face. There was a collective wince as everyone saw the result. Blood was gushing from her lip, where she now possessed a nasty gash. And then, the rage of the Gryffindors exploded through the stadium, every student snarling as they glared at Ackerley.

"What an appalling foul!" Emmett cried.

"Damn right!" I growled. As another piece of the wooden rail snapped under my grasp, I suddenly found myself fantasizing about repaying the favour. If I blunted the end before throwing it, it probably wouldn't kill the offending player. Then again, I could just throw it as it was…

The others probably wouldn't have tried to stop me. Alice was leaning as far over the rail as possible, her teeth bared in fury. Jasper had to hold her back as she waved her fists, jumping around like some kind of hyper death-pixie, screaming, "Let me at him! Let me at him! I want to suck his blood!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

Whilst Jasper continued to try and get his now insane wife under control, which would prove quite a feat, since I was fully expecting her to begin foaming at the mouth, my other brother was continuing to verbally abuse the Ravenclaws. "A dirty, snivelling excuse for a—"

"Emmett, get on with it!"

"Alright, alright! So after the conniving, cheating—"

"I'm warning you!"

"—Ravenclaw Beater's failed attempt at murder—by the way, Ackerley, see me after the match for some pointers—I'd be more than happy to demonstr—"

This time it was my father who intervened, growling loudly, which was extremely out of character for him.

"As I was saying, after being hit with a Beater's bat, a bleeding Swan is now awarded a penalty, and rightly so—but Bella's tasted blood before and it's not going to bother her now—she puts it through the hoop with ease, and the Quaffle is back in play, Ravenclaw now in possession.

"Those lot have got nothin' on Bella and Ginny," Hagrid said, indicating the blue Chasers. "And give little Viola time—a couple o' years, maybe, and she'll be as good as running the show. Got a pair o' excellent teachers, that young un has."

I smiled widely at him. "I know. Bella's really something up there, isn't she?"

"You aint seen nothing yet. Just you wait 'til the game against Slytherin! There's a close friendship between the other houses. All this is is a bit o' goading and the likes. Gryffindor-Slytherin is when things really get serious."

"So they get worse?" asked Rose.

Hermione laughed darkly. "Oh yes. They get worse."

"McDougal flies in for a throw—she shoots—she misses! A spectacular save there by Gryffindor Keeper, Ron Weasley, who swoops in from the left like a bird of prey locked onto his target. He passes back to—whoa, what's this? The Ravenclaw Seeker seems to have spotted the Snitch!"

Sure enough, Orla Quirke was hurtling across the pitch, shooting straight past Harry, who immediately set off after her, his eyes searching for the golden ball. Little did he know, the Snitch was whizzing high up in the air behind an unsuspecting Mason Bryx, who was hovering in the complete opposite direction.

The Wronksi Feint.

"It must be lurking close to the ground somewhere, because Quirke dives, zipping down as swiftly as a Billywig riding a lightning bolt!"

Harry pulled up immediately, aware now that Orla was tricking him. She'd hoped to provide him with an injury that would put him out of play, and thereby give her team a chance at victory. Though I hadn't learned of it until now, when it was fresh in the thoughts of both my brothers and Harry, Emmett had devised a means of secretly informing the Gryffindor Seeker of any possible feint—a code word. In this case, it was Billywig.

"It looks like the Ravenclaw Seeker was, in fact, feinting. Better luck next time, Quirke! And, ooh, look! The only one hurt by the distraction is poor Stewart Ackerley, who wasn't paying attention to the Bludger heading straight for his nose. One hundred points to the Bludger for superb aim!"

Rather than comment, my mother slapped her own forehead.

"Now, whilst Ackerley sees to his boo-boo, Swan reclaims possession of the Quaffle, soaring over the heads of Li and McDougal, before plummeting down towards the pitch as Teddington comes at her from behind—but the Firebolt seems to be too much to compete with—Swan weaves over the pitch—passes to Knight, who avoids the hit of Cornfoot's Bludger after her trusty friend, Fortison cracks it towards Li, who barrells into McDougal as she dodges, giving Gryffindor a clear run!"

Viola expertly passed the Quaffle back to Bella, who flew away at top speed, her scarlet cape and mahogany hair billowing out behind. Mason Bryx braced himself as he prepared to dive, ready to fly either left or right. Maybe he would have saved it, if Emmett's hysterical cries hadn't interfered with his concentration.

"POTTER 'S GOING AFTER THE SNITCH! He's got it in his sight!"

All other activity ceased as the two team Seekers dove towards the exact centre of the pitch, where the Golden Snitch was now hovering. Quirke was closer, but Harry was faster. The two hurtled towards the same point, both coming in from opposite directions.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione exclaimed in panic.

The boy and the girl soared with hands outstretched, desperation and determination sewn into every line of their faces. They collided with a terrible thud, the pair thrown from their brooms in the same moment, sent rolling along the grassy pitch, the Snitch falling to the floor behind them.

For one terrible, sickly second, there was nothing but complete silence. Then, mayhem broke loose as the players and Madam Hooch belted down towards the seemingly unconscious Seekers.

"Well, it's safe to say that the game is over," Emmett announced, "because the Snitch lies unmoving on the grass. Someone had a hand on it, but who?"

"Harry?! Harry, are you alright?" said Ron, gently shaking his friend.

It took a few seconds, but a dazed Harry eventually responded, groaning loudly as he pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Thaz gu-a booze."

"What was that, mate? You're slurring."

"Ugh. I said 'that's going to bruise.' Think I hit my head too."

"You reckon?" Amicus chuckled.

After a few more minutes, Orla came round too, though she seemed a little worse for wear, sustaining a nasty cut along her forehead, which would require Madam Pomfrey's urgent attention.

"So who won?" Mason questioned, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"We did," Ackerley stated immediately. "Orla got to the Snitch first. Saw it as clear as day."

"No, you didn't, you thick twerp!" Ginny argued, rolling her eyes. "None of us did."

The two teams began arguing then, all glaring at their respective opponents. Ron was screaming at Mason, the Beaters began fencing with their bats, and the Chasers were throwing insults.

"Wow," Jasper laughed, "and we thought we were bad! Esme needn't have refereed the first time Bella watched us play baseball. They put us to shame!"

"Raised by wolves," I joked, shaking my head as watched the sight below, more amused than anything else.

Eventually, Madam Hooch seemed to gain control of the teams, her yellow eyes flaring as she called for quiet.

"Now there's a simple way to settle this! Potter, Quirke, come here." She picked the Snitch up off the turf, tapping her foot until the two Seekers were stood directly in front of her. "Miss Quirke, hold out your hand please."

Orla did as she was told, her eyebrow arching as the referee dropped the Snitch into her open palm.

Nothing happened. Hermione's heartbeat picked up its pace, speeding with hope and excitement.

"Now give it to Mr. Potter, please."

Harry grinned as he held out his hand, aware already of what was about to the happen. As the Snitch dropped through the air, the world seemed to hold its breath, anticipation and a slight fear mingling together.

The second the Snitch made contact with Harry's skin, the beautiful golden ball reacted, it wings unfolding, fluttering gently in the hands of the winning Seeker.

One last moment of quiet, and then…

A symphony of screams and cheers erupted through the stadium as every Gryffindor, both human and vampire, rejoiced at our victory.

I barely took in Emmett's frenzied chanting as his voice echoed over the pitch. "GRYFFINDOR WINS WITH A LEAD OF TWO HUNDRED A TWENTY POINTS! TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TO GRYFFINDOR; SIXTY TO RAVENCLAW!"

I truly felt like a teenager again as I was pulled into one of Seamus' and Dean's man-hugs. I tried not to be too rough as I gave them friendly pats on the backs.

"We won, mate! We won!" cried Seamus euphorically. "You be sure to give that girl of yours a nice big smooch from us two, will ya?"

I laughed loudly. "I'll not forget."

Whilst Rosalie hugged Hermione, Alice pounced her way onto Jasper's shoulders, her hands shooting into the air as she pointed a finger at the students on the opposite side of the stadium.

"YOU'RE NOT SINGING—YOU'RE NOT SINGING—YOU'RE NOT SINGING ANYMORE! ANYMORE!" After that, she changed the lyrics of her chant to 'can we play you every week?' "CAN WE PLAY YOU—CAN WE PLAY YOU… " It carried on like this until we were out of the stadium. My inky-haired sister, who now seemed to be a fanatical Quidditch fan, refused to climb down from her husband's shoulders.

_How could I possibly get down, _she told me, whilst still chanting, _when there are so many different songs left for me to sing? I haven't even gotten to 'We rule, and we know we do' yet._

I rolled my eyes at her, before I set off speeding ahead, my every though now set on the wonderful, amazing, mesmerising, spectacular, glorious, beautiful (the list was endless) girl now passing into the changing rooms.

I shot around the outside of the arena like a bullet, only coming to a stop when I reached the doors I'd been looking for. Instead of going inside, I propped myself against the wall and waited.

Singing could be heard here too, along with elated laughter and cheers. I distinguished Bella's voice from amongst a chorus of others. I smiled more widely as her happiness washed into me.

Five minutes later, the Gryffindor team washed outside, Bella with them. I swept her up as she ran to me, her bloody lips pulled back in a huge smile that touched her eyes.

"That was very interesting," I purred into her ear. I felt her cheeks flame before she pulled back.

"Why?"

"Because you seem to have an alter-ego when you're out there on the pitch. Sweet and fair one minute, and the next, a fiery siren who dazzles men into idiocy! Poor Thackary. He never stood a chance, did he?"

Now she was really blushing, her cheeks as red as strawberries.

"What can I say?" she shrugged, trying to downplay her embarrassment. "I like to win."

"And you do it shamelessly." I grinned and pressed her against the hard wall, brushing her lips with my own.

The blood was sticky there, though still fresh in places. Without the dragon's blood, my mouth would've been torched, swimming with venom. As things were, it was actually cool and pain-free, so it was nothing at all to run my tongue along that crimson cut, and taste the heaven there—nothing at all to kiss the broken flesh, gently sucking at it whilst my hands snaked under the hem of Bella's shirt.

I wasn't concerned about her team mates. They'd already left to join the other Gryffindors.

Bella moaned in delight, her hands exploring my body as mine did hers. I shivered in pleasure as her blood spilled over my tongue. This was ecstasy. Never had there been a kiss to surpass this one!

The blood seemed to feed my lust, but I wasn't exactly sure which kind it was. I didn't fight it though. It wasn't as if Bella was presently in any danger. I kissed her more forcefully, being sure not to graze her lips with my teeth.

_More, _Bella told me, her hands weaving through my hair.

That was all the instruction I needed. I had her more tightly against the wall in a second, my thumbs stroking the middle of her ribcage. I was just about to move my hands upwards, to gently skim over the soft skin that I should in no way be skimming, when we were interrupted by a low cough.

"Aha, got you!" Emmett cheered as I jumped back, the surprise plastered over my face. I hadn't heard them coming—I'd been too … absorbed— yet there they were: every member of my family.

Alice was still perched on her mate's shoulders, holding back a giggle. Carlisle and Esme looked apologetic. Rose looked as amused as her husband and sister. Jasper, on the other hand, was frowning.

_Edward, seriously, how are you planning on making it all the way to your honeymoon? Maybe it would be better to just—_

"No," I said, firmly but quietly. "I'll figure something out."

_Well, you'd better. The Christmas holidays will be here soon. All that free time spent with Bella—you're going to have to find something to fill it."_

I froze suddenly at that thought. The others, excluding Jasper, didn't notice, for they were all suddenly too busy congratulating Bella, telling her how incredible she was, and pulling her into affectionate embraces.

And while all this was going on, I couldn't help but wonder … how _were _we going to fill that time? My relationship with Bella had progressed enormously in the last few months, and, recently, it was only the lack of privacy that seemed to stop me from going too far.

Sure, I'd had a couple of sobering experiences since the Black Masquerade, but it had hardly given me super-massive control, which was precisely what I _would _need if I was going last through Winter Break.

If I could just make it through that, I knew I'd be able to handle it until we finally left Hogwarts, since there'd be no need for Bella to return to Forks before then.

So, how was I going to make Christmas this year eventful? More importantly, how was I going to resist Bella?

**An advanced thanks to all those of you who are going to review. I hope this chapter answered your questions on whether or not Renesmee will come into the story at some point. I do plan on writing her, though expect a little more action during Bella's pregnancy, which will be largely in Edward's POV, since we never got see that.**

** Remember, I'm aegiggle1 on Twitter. Thanks, you lot.**

** Now, onto festive fun!**


	20. Convincing Charlie

** A/N: ! ! ! ! ! : OK, so I'd just like to explain why I've been away for so long. EXCELLENT NEWS! For me anyway. Remember how I said that I'd applied for a course a while ago, and that I had that interview back in January? Well, I had a final one at the very end of April, where I had to demonstrate that I would be suitable for the programme. It took about a month of preparation, since it was such a massive deal for me that I impress the people there, and though I tried to do a bit of writing, I didn't get much done. But it paid off, because I got the place! (SQUEALS) So roughly this time next year, I shall be a fully qualified college lecturer, teaching English Literature, and possibly Classical Civilisation to aspiring scholars! Woohoo! Anyways, just thought I'd share my good news. Sorry this took so long, but it couldn't be avoided. I don't plan on letting it happen again soon.**

** I can't say I enjoyed writing this chapter. On top of writer's block (bah!), I didn't find it particularly enthralling, but I felt it was necessary, for a number of reason, which I'll explain at the bottom.**

** Also, to 'Lyrically Hyperactive': I wanted to reply to your message, but couldn't because you don't have private messaging enabled. Get that fixed and I'll send you a response. =)**

** BPOV**

My body trembled like it'd been dipped in ice water. I could barely remember a time when I had been this nervous. Edward's hands rested gently on my hips as he gazed deeply into my eyes, his own smouldering.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, leaning in to run his lips along mine.

After inhaling a shaky breath, I nodded. "Yes."

He pulled back slightly to look at me—to measure the resolve visible on my face. After a second, he smiled, but it was just as weak as the one I wore. He must be nervous too. I suppose that was reasonable.

"OK, let's go tell Charlie."

I sighed as he led me to the car, which, of course, didn't go unnoticed.

"I wouldn't worry, Bella. He's your father. It's not as if he'll love you any less." Edward bit his lip then, his eyebrows knitting together with worry. "I don't think this will help his opinion of me though."

_We're not going to tell him you're a vampire, _I thought at him.

"No, but we're going to tell him I'm not normal."

"And you think my being a witch and the fact that I can turn into a cat is normal, do you?"

He held the passenger door to his Volvo open for me, shutting it once I was inside. Then, as fast as a bullet, he shot to the driver's side, and was in the car before I had time to blink. Rather than start the engine, he twisted his body so that he had one leg tucked on the seat.

"Alright, fair point. Still, he's going to realise that I'm more … '_other'_ than you." He paused briefly, tapping on the dashboard as he thought. Finally, after a heavy sigh, he called his sister.

I only caught the blur of black and white as Alice came zipping out the door. She came to an immediate stop in front of my window, a massive, cheesy grin plastered across her beautiful face. It was so wide that her eyes were narrowed to slits. I laughed out loud. She reminded me of something out of a cartoon: first her Road-Runner sprint; now, her Looney-Toon smile.

My favourite psychic was taking every opportunity to implement her gift. Following months of 'partial blindness', as she liked to call it, nothing was too small or trivial for her visions.

So far, she'd informed us that a thick layer of snow would settle over Forks on the night of September twenty-third; there would soon be an unexpected dip in the Greek stock market, despite the festive season; this afternoon, an escaped Bullmastiff would terrorise Newton's Outfitters in its search for a nice leather boot, and after selecting the most expensive the shop had to offer (since it was clearly a dog of high standards), the four-legged bandit would make its getaway, leaving behind a trail of destruction and slobber; also, she'd predicted to Emmett that I would stub my toe on the bottom step of their huge, winding staircase, but had neglected to share such information with me, because doing so would interfere with her voyeuristic fulfilment.

Needless to say, I had ground my teeth at that one, which had put me in stark contrast with the burliest vampire, who had practically shaken the foundations of the house with his booming laughter.

"Alice, you know what I'm going to ask, so would you please just answer my question already?" Edward said, rolling his eyes.

His sister clapped, and bounced on her toes. Once she'd composed herself, her expression turned serious. "It's not going to be easy, but it's the right thing to do … for both of you, and it will help in the long run. Obviously, Charlie's not going to just flat-out accept everything you two have to say—he's going to have lots of questions, but he'll come around. It's just going to take a little perseverance, that's all."

Edward didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway. "Thanks, Alice. We'll see you … after."

"Or maybe before that," she answered mysteriously, her voice taking on the tone of a bogus carnival fortune-teller. With that, she flashed away, nothing but an inky blur once again.

My vampire fiancé didn't say a word as he pulled away from the Cullen mansion. I tried to imagine how he'd be feeling as we raced over the slick road towards my house. Being an adult, nothing Charlie could say would affect my relationship with Edward. That, however, didn't mean that he wanted my father's approval any less. His fists were clenched on the steering wheel as he drove, his diamond-hard skin stretched tightly over tensed knuckles.

In my desire to ease his anxiety, I reached over and carefully place a hand on his knee. "Edward, we'll get through this together. You know that right?"

He took his eyes off the road to look at me, lacing one of his hands with mine.

"I should be the one reassuring you, not the other way around. It's just … well, if I had been the parent in this situation, I'd be staring daggers at the non-human courting my daughter the entire time. In fact, I'd probably consider breaking every bone in his body." He smirked then. "Not that Charlie would have much luck with that."

I laughed too, glad that the stressed atmosphere was beginning to lift, even if only by a minuscule amount.

Part of me thought that we should leave the upcoming conversation for another day. It was one that would require me to be well rested, and considering I had skipped continents, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to endure the onslaught of questions that would surely continue until the late hours. The time difference always messed up my sleeping patterns, and come eight o'clock, I'd be absolutely exhausted. Would I be able to answer all of Charlie's questions before then? I doubted it. Still, we needed to get this out of the way, and fast, if we were ever going to be able to relax. It certainly wouldn't do to postpone this conversation more than necessary.

It was three o'clock in Eastern Pacific time, and already, the sky was beginning to darken to a deep grey. The Cullens and I had got back from Hogwarts over six hours ago. It had been two in the afternoon when we'd accessed the Floo Network from Carlisle and Esme's office. McGonagall had given us permission to skip the Hogwart's Express, since we were all heading for the same destination as the Muggle Studies professor, and we'd spent the time since then perfecting the story we'd serve to Charlie.

He was waiting for us on the porch when we pulled up next to the plain wooden house, and looked like the cat about to get the cream, wearing a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He'd clearly been impatient for this reunion. I could see that in the way that he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, bobbing excitedly. I half expected him to start singing show-tunes, whilst breaking out into an accompanying tap dance. That image had me smiling even more widely as I jumped out of the car.

"'Bout time you got here!" he said, jumping down the steps to meet me. I hadn't realised just how strongly I'd missed him until I was running up the path.

"Dad!"

For some reason, I'd expected to see a change in his appearance: an extra laugh line, or a strand of grey hair—it felt like so long since I'd last seen him—so I was happy when I realised that he looked entirely the same.

After being encased in a fierce hug, Charlie reluctantly pulled back, staring over my shoulder, whilst arranging his expression into one of polite welcome. I was surprised by how easily he managed it. He hadn't exactly made a secret of his dislike for Edward in the past. Maybe that had changed, or maybe his obvious relief at seeing me had put him in an exceptionally good mood. Perhaps he had just resigned himself to the fact that I would always want to be with Edward, meaning that he'd either have to make an effort, or remain eternally grumpy in his presence. Whatever the reason, I was exceptionally grateful for it.

"Edward," my dad greeted, offering out his hand. He didn't even shiver when the chilly vampire shook it.

"Hello, Charlie. How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, so-so." There was a moment of silence, where Charlie fidgeted awkwardly, not seeming sure how to proceed. Finally, however, he snapped of it. "Well, anyway, you two kids had better come in. You got any bags you need bringing in, Bells?"

"Only one. I'll get it later though."

Charlie led us inside then, turning into the living room where he took a seat, leaving the couch free for Edward and me. The second we were comfortable, the questions started coming. Charlie fired one after another, not even giving us time to answer before he was moving onto the next one.

"So how've your classes been? Is the workload heavy? What's Dartmouth like? I mean, it's gotta be pretty impressive for Ivy League, right?"

I laughed nervously in response, shuffling in my seat. Sensing my discomfort, Edward took my hand in his, ready to address Charlie on my behalf, since I was having difficulty finding my tongue.

"Charlie, I understand that there's lots you wish to know at the moment, but before you ask anything else, there's something that Bella and I need to tell you first. Something important."

My father's face dropped in an instant, his eyes darting from Edward to me and back again. My heart pounded against my ribcage as his face turned from peach to red, before, finally, reaching a shade which could only be described as puce.

"Calm down," Edward whispered subtly in my ear, too low for Charlie to discern. Easy for him to say! He didn't have a sledge hammer for a heart, nor was he sporting a light sheen of sweat across his forehead.

Without warning, Charlie burst from his chair, his entire body trembling in unmistakable fury. "You're pregnant!" he barked, pointing a finger in my direction. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"What? No!" I protested. I would've been embarrassed by the accusation in any situation, but having Edward there to witness it was simply mortifying. As my cheeks reached a hue to rival the reddest strawberry, another emotion bubbled to the surface. I, too, pounced to my feet, struggling to hold onto my temper. "If you'd just kept quiet and listened to what we had to say you would have realised that, without having to make a spectacle of yourself!"

Fatherly instincts seemed to kick in then, those which told him to assert his parental authority. His chest puffed out with indignation, but all he managed were a few grumpy splutters, and he soon returned to his seat, slumping down in surrender.

I wondered anxiously in those following seconds whether he would have preferred his initial suspicions to be correct, rather than the facts we were about to share with him. That line of thought set me gnawing at my lower lip.

"As I was saying," Edward continued, his tone polite, "we need to discuss something … something which we've both been keeping from you for a very long time."

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Go on."

I sighed. I was the one who Charlie needed to be hearing this from, and I knew full well that it was wrong to rely on Edward to do my job simply because I was afraid.

"Dad, just hear us out, alright? You know how we told you we've been at Dartmouth all this time?" I didn't need to be a vampire to hear Charlie's jaw clench. "Well, we lied. We haven't been at college at all. We haven't even been in the country."

"Then where the hell _have_ you been?" he snapped, suddenly furious.

"At a different school," I went on, refusing to be deterred by his anger, "for _different_ people."

Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but closed it almost instantly. A small crease appeared in the space between his eyes, his expression revealing confusion now more than any other emotion. "What do you mean, 'different?'"

Pinching the bridge of my nose in an Edward-like fashion, I said, "There really isn't an easy way to tell you this. I think the only solution is to just come right out and show you. Just … remember to keep breathing, OK?"

And with that, I morphed, allowing my second form to explode to the surface, the bursting sensation no longer frightening.

Charlie jumped backwards out of his chair, crashing against the fireplace in shock and fright. A couple of picture frames toppled from the mantle as a result, their glass screens shattering as they hit the stone hearth.

In this form, I could clearly make out the pulse beating wildly beneath the skin of my father's neck; I could smell the dewy film forming on his forehead; I could even distinguish each shallow breath as he tried to quieten his panic, not to mention his wild heartbeat.

_Going to have coronary,_ I told Edward, who was still sat calmly beside me on the couch.

"Charlie," he said carefully, "I know this seems insane—"

"YOU GOT THAT RIGHT!" my dad interrupted, his voice bellowing. "HOW OFTEN DO _YOU_ SEE A HUMAN CHANGE SPECIES? Wait, don't answer that!"

"If you'd sit do—"

"SIT DOWN? SIT DOWN? MY DAUGHTER HAS A TAIL, EDWARD! A TAIL!" Charlie stood up a little straighter then, his body freezing, before he launched into furious pacing. "Strike that—Bella doesn't have a tail. I've just lost my mind, that's all. Yeah, that explains it. I've cracked. Gone insane. I'm crazy. A lunatic. A total wacko! Yeah, that's got to be it. That makes a lot more sense.

"Or maybe it was those fried mushrooms I had earlier. Come to think of it, they tasted a little funny. Maybe there was something—"

I looked at Edward whilst Charlie continued his attempts to convince himself that this was all in his head—that I wasn't perched before him on his couch, a deadly four-legged predator.

"I think you should turn back now, Bella," Edward murmured softly. I couldn't have agreed more.

Charlie jumped again as I transformed back into my natural form. The colour had drained entirely from his face, giving him a sickly pallor, which was only enhanced by the drops of perspiration forming above and around his eyes, though he quickly wiped them away with the back of his sleeve.

"Perhaps you'd better sit down for this, Char—Dad."

Charlie didn't say anything as he returned to his chair. He plonked himself down, the tension rolling of his body in waves. Refusing to waste time, I launched into my explanation, revealing my story and what my first meeting with McGonagall had meant for me.

I told him everything, from my subsequent visit to Diagon Alley, describing in detail each step of that wonder-filled experience, to my Hogwartian adventures. I left out the part about the recent war, not wanting to cause my father any more stress than necessary. Already, this looked like it was becoming too much for him.

He didn't interrupt me once, choosing instead to remain silent.

"I realise this is going to take some time to get used to," I acknowledged, ready to bring my speech to a close, "and I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to tell you. It was wrong of me, but I'm sure you can appreciate why that was. I mean … it's not exactly the easiest truth to explain, or to accept for that matter."

The vein over Charlie's temple seemed ready to burst—it was beating so quickly and forcefully. His fingers pressed harshly at the armrests of his chair, his knuckles straining against the white skin that covered them.

"Sorry it's taken you so long?" he repeated in a deceptively calm voice. I winced. He shook his head then, before sinking back into silence.

The quiet was maddening, and I longed to know what Charlie was thinking, even though that would probably mean hearing something I wouldn't like. For the first time, I felt as though I could truly empathise with Edward.

Sensing my dejection, he squeezed my hand a little more firmly, gently stroking the back of it with his thumb.

"Say something, Dad," I pleaded.

Charlie shook his head once more. "What _can_ I say? I'm not even sure that even believe this is happening. And if it is, well, that just means I have to come to terms with the fact that you've been keeping secrets from me for close to a decade."

"It's not like that," I argued softly. "It's not that I didn't want to tell you. It's just … I didn't want to upset your peace of mind. This stuff isn't exactly for the faint-hearted."

"Is that what you think of me—that I'm too weak to handle it?"

"No! No, of course not. I don't think that at all," I lied. "It's just … I believed you'd be happier if you thought there was no more to the world than … than logic and sense. It's not as if this subject isn't turning you a little green."

"That's beside the point," he retorted. "You're my daughter, Bella. I deserve to know! Admittedly, yes, I would love everything to make sense, like it seemed to five minutes ago, and if it had been anyone else, then maybe I would've preferred not knowing. But it isn't just anyone we're talking about here. We're talking about you!"

I nodded, thoroughly ashamed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Charlie sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "I just wish you would've told me. I don't like being out of the loop."

"I know."

"And Renée knows. Renée! I'm not being funny, kid, but I would've hoped you'd have thought I had a stronger stomach than your mother. She's not exactly…"

"Actually, Mom took it rather well," I smiled weakly, "but that's probably because the professor only showed us a few minor tricks."

"Minor? What would you call minor?"

To answer his question, I extracted the yew wand from my pocket, and pointed it at the broken picture frames still resting by the fire. With a few simple incantations, I had them repaired and back to their original position on the mantle.

Charlie's eyes were wide, so much so that the white was visible all the way around the edge of his irises. "Wow," he breathed. He coughed to clear his throat, attempting to fake a level of calm which could no way match his true emotions. "That's going to take some getting used to."

"You're probably right. Who knows, though? Maybe you'll even come to enjoy magic." I shrugged, though I couldn't quite keep the hope from creeping its way onto my face.

"Magic," said Charlie, thoughtfully, testing the word. He still looked sceptical, not that I could blame him. It was a lot to take in. After a few moments, however, he pressed on, curiosity slowly taking over. "So … so you were born this way? How does that work exactly? Isn't it something you inherit? You know—like … like Luke Skywalker and the Force?"

I couldn't help myself; I laughed out loud. That seemed to lighten the mood a little. Charlie almost smiled. "Sorry, Dad. The analogy was just quite funny, that's all. But no, you don't always have to inherit it. Most witches and wizards—" he winced at this, uncomfortable at hearing the name, "—get it from their parents, but sometimes there are anomalies like me."

Charlie tapped his chin then, pondering my revelation. "To be honest, Bells, I'm not so sure about that." I felt my brow pucker in confusion. Beside me, Edward was shaking with silent laughter. "I know this might seem ridiculous, but maybe I'm a little bit different too. I think I might be psychic."

"Um, what?"

"Well, come to think of it, a long time ago, I had a really crazy dream where you told me exactly what you have done today. You didn't turn into a lion or anything, but what are the chances that I'd dream you were a … a … a—"

"You don't have to say it, Dad."

"— a witch," he said, feeling the need to prove a point, "if I didn't already have a little bit of Jedi juice too?"

Now I could see what Edward had found so funny. Charlie didn't realise I'd already told him all this before, and Confunded him afterwards. He still thought the first time was simply something he'd seen and heard in his sleep.

_Hmm,_ I thought to Edward, _would it be better to let him think he's an oracle, rather than tell him I've been practising mind control?_

One prod. Edward shook with more laughter.

I tried for an impressed expression, and gasped, "Wow, Dad. You never told me that before. That's really interesting. Maybe you're right!"

Charlie nodded, relaxing back into his chair. This new theory seemed to make him a little smug. Maybe his knowing wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. He'd taken everything better than I'd expected so far, at least.

I grinned at him, and he smiled back, before his gaze inevitably shifted to Edward, who was now as stiff as a statue, awaiting the coming inquisition.

"You've been awfully quiet, Edward. How are you involved in all of this anyway? Are you … are you different too?"

A long electrifying pause followed the question, and seemed to stretch on for hours, before Edward gave his short reply. "Yes."

Charlie's face lost its easiness again, and he nodded solemnly. "I guess that doesn't surprise me. Are you a… a wizard then?"

"No, I don't possess the same kind of talent that Bella does."

"Then where's the difference?"

"I wasn't born this way," the vampire confessed. "What I am—it came later. In the beginning, I was a relatively average boy."

I frowned. Even as a human, I heavily doubted Edward could ever have been described as 'average'.

"I don't like the sound of that," Charlie admitted. "What changed?"

Edward sighed. "I was dying."

My father's face softened in an instant, his brown eyes full of sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry. How did that happen?"

"Influenza. The virus had already killed my parents. I would've died too if it hadn't been for Carlisle."

"Carlisle? I don't understand. If he couldn't treat your parents, and you were about to follow them, then how did he save you?"

"Not through any medical drug, I can assure you. I don't even know how to begin to explain." Edward wore a very weary expression all of a sudden, and now it was my turn to comfort him. He smiled sadly at me as I squeezed his hand, before he resigned himself to his task, just as I had.

"Why don't you take the same approach Bella did?" Charlie suggested. "Just … do whatever it is you do. I'll get over it. Or, you could just come straight out with it and tell me what you are. If not a … a wizard, then what?"

I braced myself as Edward took a deep breath. The suspense was mounting, becoming unbearable.

_Don't worry. If this doesn't go well, we can always fix it._

The image of my wand filled my thoughts. If Charlie refused to accept what he was about to hear, I would simply erase his memory. Nothing in existence would stop me from protecting Edward, even if that meant I had to keep my own father in the dark.

Edward rubbed the back of my hand once more, this time from gratitude. After one last breath, he simply came out with it. "I'm immortal."

A tumble-weed rolling through my living room wouldn't have looked out of place in the following moments. Charlie seemed more of a statue now than Edward. His eyes were as wide as golf balls, whilst his mouth hung open moronically.

I held my breath.

"I-immortal?"

Edward nodded.

"Y-you mean … you'll never … die?"

"No."

...

"And your family," Charlie whispered, "are they all … the same?"

"Yes. Carlisle is the oldest of us. He was … cursed a very long time ago."

This was the story we'd decided on. We couldn't exactly explain the precise details of the Cullens' history, because we didn't want to put a name to what they were. Still, my kind relied on secrecy as much as the vampires, so as long as we didn't mention species, sharing a degree of information with Charlie wouldn't hurt him; in fact, it would only make things easier later.

Once I was a vampire too, and after I'd gained some measure of control, I'd be able to continue seeing my parents. There was no need for the Volturi to find out about the revelation. I would be going alone to Voltera, since there was no way I could be accompanied by the Cullens—not when they knew so much about witches and wizards. It would be too much of a risk.

"Cursed?" Charlie questioned, the colour draining from his face for a second time. "Cursed how? By who?"

"Carlisle was … pursuing a murderer. He wanted to ensure justice—to make things safer for those around him. But the man was … powerful. He acted to save himself, and attacked my father. In revenge, he used his powers to condemn Carlisle to an endless life, knowing that he'd have to watch everyone around him change and grow older.

"Because of that, Carlisle could never stay in one place for too long. Back in those days, if the people had realised he wasn't ageing, they probably would've burnt him at the stake."

"S-stake? How … how old is he?"

…

"Over three hundred years old."

Charlie looked as though he was about to be sick, and leant forward in his chair, his head falling into his hands.

"He was born in England," Edward continued, no hope discernible in his tone, "but eventually came to America. He'd been alone for centuries. Though he knew how to make another like himself, he was reluctant to do so, not wanting to doom another to immortality. Then he found me, dying of Spanish Influenza in Chicago. My life was just about to be snatched away, so he changed me. I was seventeen."

"Keep going," instructed Charlie, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Next he saved Esme, who had fallen from a cliff. She had a broken spine, shattered bones, and internal bleeding, but her heart was still beating, so it was possible to save her. Next came Rosalie, who was beaten by her fiancé and his friends, left to die in the street. One day, a few years after Carlisle had saved her, she came across Emmett; he'd been attacked by a bear. Like the rest of us, he was close to death, but Rosalie carried him back to my father, and he was given a second chance.

"Neither Alice or Jasper had had a say in their transformation. Jasper had been cursed like Carlisle, by an evil witch named Maria. Alice doesn't remember anything of her mortal life. She simply woke up one day, and found Jasper years later."

"This is the reason why you all look different," Charlie stated, his voice dead.

"Yes," Edward answered softly. "The … magic which … immortalised us—it does other things too—makes us faster … stronger. Our senses are improved a thousand fold. My sense of smell is more advanced than a dog's; my eyesight is better than an eagle's; and, right now, I can hear the hearts of both you and your daughter. My skin has been crystallised into something harder than diamond.

"Truly, immortals are petrified in every sense, not just our bodies, but our personalities too, including our likes and dislikes. We're fixed in time. If change does come for us, it's permanent."

Charlie's head snapped up at this, and I guessed that he'd recognised the essential meaning hiding in Edward's words.

"The transformation takes three days, and it's exceptionally painful. It feels as if you're being consumed by fire. The second it ends, the heart stops beating."

That did it for Charlie. He jumped to his feet, his careful calm hanging by a thread, and marched over to the fireplace, leaning against the mantle for support, his back to us.

"How old are you, Edward?" he asked a second later.

My heart turned back into the sledge hammer, almost painful as it banged against my ribcage. I was so nervous that I wanted to be sick, but that would be the least helpful thing to do, so I held myself together, breathing through my anxiety.

"I was born in 1901, and was changed in 1918."

Charlie whirled then, his face furious. "So you're over a hundred years old?"

…

"Yes."

"And what—you've had about a hundred different girlfriends in that time?"

"Dad!"

"No way, Bells!" he fumed. "I wanna know exactly what this guy's been up to!" Great. We'd gone from Edward to 'this guy'.

"It's alright, Bella," Edward assured me, before turning his attention back to my father. "I can understand why you'd think that—a hundred years is a lot of time to fill—"

"I'm sure it is, buddy!"

"—but Bella is the first girl I've ever felt anything romantic for. I'd never had any kind of relationship before her."

"And you expect me to believe that, do you?" Charlie growled.

"Of course not," Edward sighed, "but it doesn't make it any less true. I'm a little … picky, for a very particular reason."

Charlie barked a humourless laugh. "Go on. Enlighten me!"

"I can read minds."

That stopped my father in his tracks. He gulped, seeming to sway on the spot.

"I'm sure you can appreciate why that would cause a problem for me—why it would make things difficult. When you can hear every petty, selfish thought of the people surrounding you, rejecting them isn't the most difficult thing."

"Read minds? You can…"

Edward nodded. "But not Bella's. Hers was the first I came across that kept me out. It frustrated me in the beginning. I was arrogant about it, and told myself that she'd be no different from any other human being—just as selfish and just as irritating.

"Of course, I soon discovered that that wasn't the case, and so she became a source of mystery and fascination. For so long, I'd wanted nothing more than to block the voices out, but, suddenly, all I wanted was to hear what this one human was thinking.

"Before I knew what was happening, I was in love with her. I've already told you that when we change, it's a permanent thing. When someone like me falls in love, Charlie, they don't fall out. I will never stop loving Bella, even if she grows an extra nose and tentacles."

For a very long moment, my father couldn't find a response. His chest rose and fell more quickly than it should have, but I couldn't tell whether this was a product of anger or anxiety.

"If that were true," Charlie said through clenched teeth, "then why the hell did you leave her?"

Edward sucked in a sharp breath, clearly pained by the memories of our separation. His eyes flicked to me, before sweeping down to the floor. I held his hand tighter, unable to meet my father's gaze. The silence hung over us like a blanket, thick and heavy. It was broken by a loud gasp. My eyes automatically snapped up to meet my dad's.

He was looking at me with a mask of outright fear. "Bella?" he whispered, eyes wide. "W-w… why did he leave? Please tell me that…" But I didn't need to say anything—Charlie had already worked it out for himself. "You want to be like him."

"Charlie—" Edward began, only to be cut off by my dad, who held up a finger to silence him.

"No, I want to hear this from her," he insisted.

I gulped. "Dad, I… I'm not going to lie. I can't live without Edward. I won't. When the Cullens left last year, they did it because Edward didn't want to take away my mortality, even though I'd asked him to a hundred times. I thought he'd left because he'd stopped loving me." He flinched at my words. "But I found out later that it was because he was afraid I'd regret a life like his, and he thought I deserved a chance at a normal human life."

"What changed?" Charlie bit. His eyes didn't shift from mine though, so I guessed that I was now the focus of his rage.

"I thought she'd died," Edward whispered, his head falling into hands. "I thought she'd committed suicide. Put yourself in my shoes, Charlie, just for a minute. Imagine you've spent a century alone, never meeting anyone who touched your heart. And then, all of a sudden, you find the one person that does, only you're separated by an endless gulf. Imagine the conflict when you want more than anything to keep them forever, but you want so much more for them than this."

He gestured to himself with his hand, waving it along the length of his body. At the same time, he met my father's gaze, his own pleading. "If you loved them so completely, you'd find the strength to leave them, wouldn't you?"

His expression was heartbreaking; it made me want to burst into tears.

Charlie, too, seemed to recognise Edward's sincerity, because the anger slowly transformed into pity, his brow furrowing with pain.

He nodded.

"Imagine, then, you discover that your reason for being—the one that brought you to life after you'd felt dead for so long—was suddenly gone from the world, and you'd have to face eternity without them. Could you survive that? Would you want to carry on?"

Charlie shook his head. He knew a little about separation himself.

"Well that's how it was for me," Edward stated. "For days, I thought Bella was dead—that she'd killed herself. And then, when I was just about to follow her, she was there, alive and well. All my willpower evaporated in that moment. I'll never be able to leave her again."

I watched nervously as Charlie backed himself towards his chair. He collapsed into the upholstery like someone who'd just finished fighting a gruelling battle—someone with little remaining strength. For a full five minutes, he sat with his eyes clenched, his head tilted up to the ceiling. I was beginning to worry that he'd fallen asleep, but, finally, he spoke.

"I haven't been fair to you, Edward," he decided with a sigh. "You care about Bella more than I realised."

…

"Yes."

…

"And you tried to protect her."

"Yes."

Charlie sighed. "Well, then, I guess you're as much a fool as I am."

I felt my jaw drop. My father wasn't mad? He certainly didn't sound it! He seemed more resigned than anything else, yet I'd been expecting him to flip tables in a fit of rage.

"I'm not stupid, you know," he said, catching sight of my expression. "You might have been able to keep me in the dark for years about all this, but I think I know my own daughter." When our eyes next connect, his were aware and expectant. "If I forbid you to do this, it won't make a damn bit of difference."

I smiled weakly. "No."

Charlie nodded. "That's what I thought. You're too stubborn for your own good, kid. Haven't you even thought about what this would mean for you? Forever's a long time, Bells." By this point, Charlie's voice had adopted a pleading edge. His palms were pressed together as he attempted to stress the seriousness of the situation, as if in prayer. "I mean, I know no one wants to think about dying, but—"

"I'll die someday, Charlie, either way. Even the Cullens won't live forever."

"You said—"

"We won't die from natural causes," Edward interrupted, "but none of us will stay on this side of the Veil forever. When the time is right, we'll know."

"And then what?" asked Charlie, fear flashing across his face. "How would you …"

Goosebumps rose over my arms as I considered discussing this topic with Charlie. It wasn't a conversation I wanted to have, but I didn't see any alternative at this point. "There's a door," I whispered. "One created by my kind … a doorway into … into death. When you walk through it, you leave this world for the next one."

"W-what?" A violent shudder shook my father's body. He gulped loudly. "There's … there's definitely something after, then?"

"I'm sure of it," Edward told him.

"And you plan on going there at some point, do you?" How bizarre it was that we were discussing this, and so calmly too!

"At some point, but whilst I'm happy in this life, I see no reason to move onto the next."

"You see, Dad," I said, shuffling closer to Edward, my thigh pressed firmly against his, "I wouldn't have to choose between Edward and … Heaven. All this would mean would be that I'd have a say in the timing."

"It's a bit more than that, I'm sure," Charlie grumbled. "Still, that's better than I'd hope for. To be honest with you, Bells, the idea of anyone living forever … well, it kinda gives me the creeps. But if you're telling me it's just a case of … of sticking around for a little bit longer, I'll pretend that I believe you.

"As it is," he told me, his face abruptly softening, "it doesn't actually matter to me whether you live for a hundred years or a thousand. As long as you're happy in that time, I will be too." The next time his gaze landed on me, his face transformed until it was overflowing with warmth and affection. "That's all I ever wanted for you, kid. You do know that, don't you?"

Charlie's crinkly-eyed smile had me jumping off the couch. The relief was crushing as he opened his arms for me. I slid into them and hugged him fiercely, intensely happy when I felt the pressure of his embrace increase, sensing the forgiveness and love he was trying so hard to communicate.

"Thank you, Dad," I whispered, my voice muffled by his shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too, Bells. Always." He pulled back then and, to my surprise, chuckled. "Even if you live a thousand years."

His laughter was infectious. It washed over me like warm water, soothing and cheering, cleansing me of all my previous fears and concerns, until I was so light-hearted that I was compelled into similar laughter.

"What if I live for ten thousand years?" I asked, no longer worried about his response.

Charlie shrugged, repeating his earlier statement, "S'long as you're happy." He mussed my hair then. "Honestly, Bells, you've already proved you're a little strange—not that that's a bad thing!"

"That's alright," I smirked. "The pros of being a freak like me far outweigh the cons."

"Then what's one more freaky quality?" Charlie teased, grinning widely. I was intensely relieved that his smile didn't fade completely as he glanced at Edward. "I guess it's better that you're with someone you can be yourself with. At least you're compatible in that way—two oddballs."

"You got that right."

He exhaled heavily then, before, squaring himself up and marching over to my vampire fiancé, who continued to model a very friendly and polite expression, as he always did in my father's company.

"Well, er, I guess I should apologise," Charlie coughed awkwardly, "for misjudging you. I thought you were a selfish, using jerk. I, er … I got it wrong."

Edward smiled. "Don't worry about it. I would've thought the same thing if I'd been in your shoes."

I briefly—very briefly—considered attempting a back-flip as they shook hands. Breaking into song crossed my mind too. In the end, I settled for wearing the cheesiest grin in the history of the world. Never had I believed I would see this day—that my dad would abandon that ancient grudge all father's aimed at their daughters' love interest, yet here it was!

"What you looking at me like that for?" Charlie huffed, back to his normal self. I shrugged, but failed to hide my joy. He rolled his eyes. "I'm not totally unreasonable, you know."

Edward and I laughed.

"So, Edward. You read minds, huh?"

And just like that, my vampire looked nervous again, exactly like the typical suitor during question time. "I do."

"Huh. Can all your family do that?"

"No. You have to be really perceptive as a mortal for it to be strengthened into a sixth sense. Alice and Jasper are the only others in my family with extra gifts."

"Oh, what can they do?"

"Jasper can sense and manipulate emotions," I told him. "Alice sees the future."

The way in which his eyes bulged was comical.

"You'll be able to ask her about it yourself," Edward said. "She'll be here in precisely twenty three seconds."

"How do you know that?" asked my dad, his mouth agape.

"She's within range." Edward smirked and tapped his head. "She told me herself."

The strange admission left Charlie speechless. He looked to me for confirmation that this was normal. I smiled and nodded, before allowing my eyes to wander to the door.

Sure enough, within a matter of seconds, there came a cheerful series of knocks: Da duh-duh da da. Da da.

"Come in, Alice," I said, not bothering to raise my voice.

The door flew open instantly, and in bounced my favourite girlfriend, as chipper as ever.

"Charlie!" she called in a sing-song voice.

My mortal father gawked openly at the vampire, who seemed to have taken it upon herself to see that the Swan residence was fully equipped for the festive season. Over one shoulder, there rested a seven-foot Christmas tree, which she held with no more difficulty than a baseball bat. In the opposite hand, she gripped two massive suitcases, which no doubt contained a variety of different decorations.

"I foresaw that you would need this," she chirped. "Don't worry, I'll set it up for you!"

Carlisle and Esme followed her in, both wearing apologetic expressions. I guess they'd decided to tag along to make sure my dad wasn't about to suffer a nervous breakdown.

"Sorry, Charlie," said Carlisle. "You'll soon learn that Alice is an unstoppable force of nature. We tried to rein her in, but we may as well have told the Pope not to pray."

Charlie nodded, gulping. His eyes followed the pixie as she headed over to the corner. Esme placed a bucket, which was half filled with soil and wrapped in chocolate silk, at her feet. Alice lowered the tree into the centre, holding it straight whilst her mother carefully packed the rest of the container.

As I moved off to the side with Edward, watching Alice adorn the tree with twinkling lights, glittering acorns, shiny baubles and so on, the oldest looking Cullens did their best to make Charlie feel comfortable. Esme told him of her teaching experience at Hogwarts, reinforcing the world Edward and I had claimed was real, and Carlisle spoke briefly about the magical tomes he was looking forward to translating. He'd found a massive store of ancient texts in St Mungo's archives, but not all of them were in English.

"He looks too calm," I worried aloud, analysing Charlie's expressionless face.

"Oh, he's far from that," Edward chuckled. "He's definitely alarmed. Even when he was laughing with us earlier, he was the same. He's doing his best to mask it though, because he doesn't want you to regret telling him. Charlie's going to put on a brave face for everyone, despite his discomfort."

Alice finished the tree five minutes following her arrival. It was elaborately decorated, loaded with the traditional red and gold, making it a beautiful and warm addition to the very unexceptional living room.

Once she'd finished placing the heavily intricate garland over the mantle, and had hung two red stockings on either side of the fire—one with Charlie's name written across in gold glitter, and the other with mine—she danced to my side, crouching down to clutch my shin.

"All aboard the Bella Express, everyone!" she sang.

"Why?" I asked. "Where are we going?"

"We're hopping over to our house so we can use the Floo Network."

I arched an eyebrow questioningly.

"Shopping," said Edward. My expression must have reflected the horror within, because he hastily added, "Christmas shopping. It'll give you some time to spend with your dad, since I'm going with Carlisle and my brothers."

"Oh." I thought about the proposal for only a second, before I decided it was actually a good idea, and used a summoning charm to retrieve my pouch of hidden galleons from under the floor boards in my room. There was a loud crack as they tore through the wood, but no one questioned it. I'd fix any damage later.

Edward slid his fingers through mine, whist Carlisle and Esme each took a shoulder.

Holding my free hand out for Charlie, I said, "Come on, Dad. Take hold."

He looked at it with suspicion, his eyes narrowing. "Why? What are you going to do?"

I shrugged. "I'm taking you to the Cullens' house. It's quicker this way." Rather than admit his discomfort, my dad cautiously paced to my side. His skin was clammy, which, considering the circumstances, I could completely understand. "Take a deep breath," I warned. "This can be a little nauseating the first time."

"Nauseating? What do you mea—"

The darkness sucked us in in an instant. My bones felt as if they would be ripped at the joints, my eyeballs and eardrums were being forced deeper into my skull, and I couldn't breathe at all. Suddenly, light exploded across my vision as we appeared in the Cullens' white living room, almost almost blinding in comparison to the absolute black that accompanied apparation.

Charlie inhaled a loud lungful of air, doubling over in the same moment, whilst his face took on a sickly green tinge. I looked immediately to Alice, who shook her head, already aware of the question I was about to ask.

"No bucket. He'll be as right as rain in two minutes." Personally, I thought she was overstating it. There was no way, in my opinion, that Charlie would take to such advanced magic _that _easily. He was much too … Mugglish. As Edward had said, however, he put on a brave face, though he made no more effort than that to hide his true feelings.

"Bells, that was horrible. I don't know what you did, but let's not try it again any time soon. 'Kay?"

I laughed. "Sure thing."

Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper were all waiting for us by the fireplace. They nodded a polite hello to Charlie as we approached. He smiled weakly back, and followed us over to meet them, remaining closely beside me the whole time.

"So who's going where?" I inquired. "Diagon Alley is obviously out. All the shops will be shut there by this time."

"Well," answered Alice, in her high soprano voice, "the boys are heading off to Shanghai, and we're—"

"Wait, what?" exclaimed Charlie.

Alice shrugged. "We're not bound now by distance. We can go anywhere … see anything, at the drop of a hat. There's no point restricting ourselves to Washington State when we have that luxury. Don't you think Charlie?"

"Um … sure."

"So," the pixie clapped, "as I was saying, the boys are taking China, and we're going to take Kuala Lumpur. Esme got a list areas for wizard retail from McGonagall. We're sticking to East Asia, since it's morning there. Besides, they're interesting and colourful. You're going to love it!"

My initial reaction to the idea of visiting South East Asia was to feel an overwhelming sense of excitement. After a few seconds, however, the grin slowly slipped from my face. As much as I would've enjoyed spending time with the girls, what I really wanted right now was to spend some alone time with my dad, especially since he looked in no shape whatsoever to succeed in keeping with the pace of the vampires. Luckily, I had a perceptive, trusty Empath on hand to help me out.

"Um, Alice," said Jasper, "I think maybe it would be better if we give Charlie and Bella some time together. They have a lot to talk about, after all."

I flashed a small smile at him in gratitude. He winked in return.

His psychic wife looked back to me, examining my face for a fraction of a second, before she smiled and nodded. "OK, how about Japan? There's a nice little wizarding village not far from Yoshino. It's called Mahouyama."

"Yes," said Esme, "I think that would suit the two of you just right. It's a lovely area. Very peaceful and picturesque."

Charlie still looked unconvinced; even after everything he'd already seen, I think he still refused to believe it was possible simply to hop on over to East Asia for a shopping spree.

Alice held out a small leather pouch to me, smiling hopefully. I furiously shook my head. As if I was going to buy their Christmas presents with _their _money!

"That's what I thought," she sighed, no doubt having seen my refusal in one of her visions. "Oh, well, it was worth a try at least." Gesturing to the fireplace then, she said, "Why don't you two go first? You're going to _The Spinning Fireball, Mahouyama, Japan._"

Figuring it was best not to argue, I led my father over to the fireplace, instructing him to do exactly as I did. Rosalie held out the bag of Floo Powder as I prepared to climb into the flames. I'd expected Charlie to argue, but he didn't make a sound as I stepped into the emerald flares. I suppose he'd decided that if there was any danger, the others would have protested too.

_Edward, _I called_, make sure Alice keeps an eye on Charlie. I don't want him ending up in a Middle Eastern war zone or something. That would be just his luck._

Edward smiled and nodded. Somehow, I managed to tear my gaze from his striking green eyes and crooked smile, to glance at Charlie, who looked ill, one last time. I really hoped the Spinning Fireball was some kind of drink house. He seemed like he needed a Fire Whiskey. With one final reassuring smile, hoping he would somehow absorb the confidence I was attempting to radiate, I spoke the words that sucked me into the rushing vortex.

The other exits flew by at blinding speed in a whiz of colour; rather, I flew by them. The feeling of weightlessness was truly wonderful, and I regretted that I couldn't surf the rainbow more often. Travelling by Floo Powder was far better than any theme park attraction.

After minutes of torpedoing through the lightning fast network, in which time I had passed hundreds of other witches and wizards, their hair and robes streaming out behind them, I finally felt myself slowing, the current directing me towards a particularly large exit.

The sight I stumbled out to was awe-inspiring. I was standing in the middle of what could have passed for an ancient oriental temple. It was perfectly circular, and had five separate tiers, each of the upper levels composed of orange stone platforms, which travelled around the edge of the walls, giving me an unobstructed view all the way up to the pointed ceiling.

At the roof's peak, there was a circular hole about a metre in diameter, where a bronze concave mirror was attached. It reflected the sun down to the next level. I followed the line of light to a second mirror, and the light bounced off that one to a third mirror on the opposite side. It was then that I realised that every space of wall was covered in the same, all the way from the top of the building to the very bottom. The way they overlapped made it seem as if the place had been constructed from thousands of dragon scales, the bronze reflective surfaces creating the illusion that I was standing in a tower of fire.

Something thudded into the back of me as I stood gawking, and I ended up sprawled across the varnished mahogany floor. Charlie grunted as he fell down beside me, his face caked with black soot.

"What did you do, Dad?" I laughed as I climbed back to my feet. "Try to eat it? You've got it everywhere!"

The only response he could give, however, was another grunt, and I guessed that his skin would be green again beneath the dirty mask. He brushed himself off as he stumbled upright, only to freeze completely upon seeing the wondrous place we'd been transported to. His eyes went wide and his mouth formed a small 'o'.

Whilst he took his time gaping, I studied the place further.

Yes, we'd definitely be able to find something to ease Charlie's nerves here by the looks of things. Across the room, beyond the number of low wooden tables, by which a few kimono-clad customers were crouched, there was bar. A dragon-shaped terracotta counter stretched from one end to another, separating the serving area from the guests' space.

I gently pulled Charlie through the narrow aisle separating the furniture, making a beeline for the bar. Behind it stood a man dressed in a dark green kimono, an intricate dragon pattern embroidered along the fabric. His tan face was covered with deep lines, yet, despite his obvious age, his hair was the blackest of black, not a single grey in sight. His dark eyes sparkled with some special, retained youth as they caught the light, and his body looked strong and muscular beneath his luxurious garments.

He smiled and bowed as we approached. It seemed only polite to return the gesture. My father did as I did, though his movements were awkward.

I didn't know a lot of Japanese, but I was aware of the basics. "Konnichiwa."

"Hello," the man replied in a thick accent. "Welcome to Spinning Fireball. I am Kiyo Haruki."

"I'm Bella Swan," I replied, since the man seemed comfortable with English, "and this is my father, Charlie Swan."

"Ah, Americans. Very good." The wizard glanced from me to my dad, seeming a little amused as he took in Charlie's nervous expression and stance. "You speak, Charlie Swan?"

My dad blinked.

"Er, he's in shock."

The man's brow furrowed as he returned his eyes to me. "In shock? Why?"

Glancing at Charlie, who was now swaying from side to side, like a New York high-rise, I stuttered, "My, um… m-my dad is a Muggle. He just found out about magic."

"Oh!" Sudden comprehension dawned on Haruki's face. "I understand!"

I gawked as the elderly wizard vaulted over the counter. He had to have been in his late sixties at least, yet his movements were quick and supple, like those of a young athlete. Carefully, he took Charlie by the elbow, one hand gently pressed against his back, and led him over to the nearest free table.

My dad didn't protest as the kind man eased him down onto a large, thick cushion. If I was being honest, he didn't seem to be in the right state to do anything at all. I guess the day's revelations were finally catching up with him. The Floo Network certainly hadn't done anything to help the situation. Clearly, we'd taken things too fast.

"You wait here," Haruki instructed. "I bring you something to make you feel better." And with that, he zipped away.

At first, I wondered why he hadn't simply used magic to transfer drinks to the table, but then I realised he was probably conscious of the present need to avoid such things, more so than I had been at any rate.

When Haruki returned half a minute later, he placed a small porcelain cup down on the table before Charlie. It was filled with a clear liquid, which was giving off a thin spout of steam.

"What is it?" Charlie croaked.

"It is a special drink. Special sake. Muggle sake… it is heated sometimes when it is not so good—to mask the poor taste. But this is wizard sake. Good quality. The flavour isn't damaged by the heat." He nodded to cup and smiled, indicating with his hands for Charlie to continue. "Drink. It will make you feel good—bring you strength."

Although my father didn't look convinced, he did the polite thing, lifting the small cup to his lips, his hands trembling in the process. With eyes clenched tightly, he hastily tipped the alcohol into his mouth, gulping down the fluid until he'd completely drained it. The second it was gone, he slammed the cup back down onto the table, inhaling quickly, as if he'd just finished running a short sprint.

"Damn!" he exclaimed, looking into the empty cup.

The man threw back his head and laughed loudly. "It is good, yes?"

"Good," Charlie agreed absently.

It only took a few seconds for the alcohol to take effect, but within that time, I witnessed a massive change in both Charlie's face and carriage. His skin, which had previously been sapped of colour, suddenly seemed ten times healthier, his cheeks turning rosy, whilst his eyes filled with a subtle glimmer. His posture rapidly improved, so that he was no longer slumped over; instead, he sat straightly, a newly awakened courage filling his muscles. His mouth twitched at the corners, until he was wearing a subtle smile.

"That stuff is really something," he said.

Haruki nodded. "Yes. It is like medicine. The benefits are both physical and mental. I drink one cup of this every morning."

I smiled. Maybe that was the secret to his good health.

"This one was free." The man grinned then, tapping his chin. "What is the expression you use—when something is free?"

"On the house," I offered.

"Ah, yes! This one was on the house!"

"Oh, well, thank you very much," Charlie replied, his voice adopting fresh confidence. "In that case, I'll have a second one, and whatever my daughter is having, please."

Haruki smiled and turned to me.

"Do you serve Butterbeer?" I inquired.

Haruki apologised and explained that _The Spinning Dragon _didn't stock the drink I'd requested, because there wasn't much of a Western influence in the reserved little mountain village; whilst tourists came and went, everyone was eager to preserve the Mahouyama way of life. The landlord did, however, recommend a cordial produced from the Sakura blossoms that grew nearby, insisting that it was extremely refreshing.

When I agreed, he slipped a long, thin wand from his pocket. Charlie didn't even flinch as the cups appeared on the table before us, nor did he seem upset when they magically filled themselves.

Haruki checked to make sure I liked the cordial. It was an extremely clear substance with a faint pink tint, cold on the tongue, but not icy—a bit like rain water. It was just as fresh as he'd promised, the sweetness slight, but perfectly balanced nonetheless. Recognising our joint satisfaction, the man bowed again, before leaving us to enjoy our drinks.

Charlie didn't down this one like he did the last, but took small sips instead, now a hundred times calmer. "So," he said, shuffling closer to the table, "let's talk."

"Ok," I agreed. Now it was my turn to be anxious. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You and Edward."

"Naturally."

Charlie nodded, glancing into his cup. "It's a big thing. If you're set on this, you can't avoid the conversation." His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and they possessed a strong determination. "I want to make sure you're positive."

"I am."

"Are you? Have you thought _everything _through? Edward said this wasn't a life he wanted for you. There must be a reason for that."

"There was," I answered, deliberately using the past tense. "Until recently, Edward knew less about himself than he realised. You have to understand, Dad—he's been alone for close to a century, always repeating the same cycle: move to a new town; pretend to be a teenager in high school, whilst distancing himself from the mortals around him; learn the same material over and over, and then move onto the next place to start again.

"For a long time, he thought that he'd been damned—that he'd lost his soul. He couldn't understand why else he'd be forced to stay here."

Charlie's expression slowly changed from serious to guilty as he listened to my explanation. "It sounds like a very lonely existence," he concluded sadly.

I nodded, "But it doesn't have to be." My dad arched an eyebrow, encouraging me to continue. "The Cullens had no idea that there were whole communities that lived in similar secrecy. They didn't realise there were places they could be themselves." I gestured to the space surrounding us, indicating the witches and wizards close by.

After a brief pause, where my dad took another sip from his cup, he said, "Alright, that's fair, but it still doesn't fix the 'forever' thing. I know I've said this before, Bells, but that's an awfully long time. Even if you were to integrate yourself into a community where you were accepted, wouldn't you get bored of it all after a while?"

"I highly doubt it," I smiled gently. "There's so much I want to know. As well as the magical subjects—and even if I live a millennium, I doubt I'll be able to learn everything there… As well as the magical subjects, though, there's also the regular things. There's a million books I have to get through for one thing! And then there's science, the arts, languages… "

"On top of that, I'll have Edward." I was acutely aware of how my expression softened as I imagined his face, melting into tenderness as his crooked smile filled my mind, coupled with the image of sparkling green eyes shifting into molten gold and back again. How on earth could I ever get bored of _him? _It would take a million years to satisfy my desire for him for heaven's sake, and then some!

"You really love him," said Charlie. It wasn't a question. He wasn't nearly as oblivious as I'd once told myself.

I nodded. "Completely. Besides, if it's as the Cullen's say it is, what I feel—" I tapped my fingers to my chest, "it will strengthen with the change. They say that the weight of an immortal's emotion would crush a human—that it's absolute and unbreakable. It's why they mate for life, or eternity rather… I doubt I could ever get bored of _that._"

Charlie inhaled a shaky breath, and took another sip of his sake. The intensity of my admission had evidently scared him a little. "Well," he breathed, "at least I don't ever have to worry about him cheating on you."

I chuckled. "Definitely not."

My dad smiled, but his face quickly turned serious again. "But what about when all your friends are gone? When _I've _gone? And your mother."

Ah, he'd had to bring up the most difficult subject.

"It'll hurt a lot—not being able to see you," I nodded. "Too painful to even think about, but it's still something I'd have to go through, even if I stayed the way I am now."

"You never know," Charlie teased, "I might outlive you. I might not be a wizard, but I'm a tough old guy."

"I don't doubt that … but my kind live longer than Muggles anyway. It wouldn't be impossible for me to live a century longer than the normal human lifespan."

Charlie gaped, his eyebrows shooting halfway up his forehead.

"My old headmaster was a hundred and fifteen, I think, when he died, but that was only because he died of unnatural causes. He might've had a good fifty or sixty years to live. The longest living wizard was over six hundred years old, but he was a bit of an anomaly."

I didn't bother to mention that that was because the person of topic was the famous alchemist who had created the Elixir of Life.

"So why bother to change at all, then?" asked Charlie, confused. "If you're going to live longer anyway, what's the need?"

"I'll still age," I said sadly. "Edward won't. He wouldn't let that separate us, but it's not how I want to live."

"Understandable. You don't strike me as the cougar type." It felt good to finally laugh together again. We hadn't done enough of it today. Hopefully, that was something I'd be able to correct. Before I could get to work on that, Charlie turned his attention to an even more sobering issue. "What about the pain? Three days of agony; that's what Edward said."

I sighed. "Medicine has come a long way since the Cullens were changed. Being a doctor, Carlisle will be able to get his hand on enough painkillers to see me through."

Perhaps if I'd believed that Muggle medicine would work in such a situation, I would've been able to convince Charlie the experience wouldn't be difficult. As things were, he looked doubtful. Nevertheless, he didn't force the issue further. It wasn't something either of us particularly wanted to discuss.

The conversation switched then to lighter topics: my schooling… my British friends… the things I had achieved since entering the magical world.

He was especially interested to hear about Quidditch, but when I told him about my role in that area, he threw back his head and roared with laughter, startling a young couple crouched at the next table. Apparently, my being able to transform into an animal was more believable than the fact that I was good at a sport.

"You are much better now, Charlie Swan?" asked Haruki, grinning as he inspected my dad.

"Yes, thank you. This stuff sure did do the trick." Charlie tapped the side of his cup, before reaching into his pocket. "How much do we owe?"

"Uh, I'll pay for these, Dad," I said as the bill materialised on the table.

Charlie frowned. "But I want to get them."

I laughed. "I don't think they accept dollars here." Extracting a tiny drawstring bag from my pocket, I pulled out ten sickles and three knuts, before passing them over to Haruki. "British wizarding currency, American wizarding currency, French wizarding currency—all of it… their coins all have the same value—all made from the same materials, all the same size. The only differences between them are the inscriptions."

"Huh. Well, that simplifies things."

"Yes," agreed Haruki, transferring the coins to his pocket, "it is not our custom to make things more difficult than is necessary; yet, Muggles…" the man shook his head and chuckled, "it is your pass-time. So many rules for this and that—everything over-complicated." He leaned forward then, bowing low to whisper a wise message. "Some things, my friend, are very … _very_ … simple."

Before he bowed to leave, Haruki tilted his head towards me, and winked.

Two minutes later, Charlie and I left _The Spinning Dragon, _exiting out onto the mountainside. I gasped at the view that met us. The Japanese wizarding village was situated half way up the mountain. The slope it looked out onto was covered with Cherry Blossom trees, two thirds of which were currently in full bloom, creating a landscape that was a mixture of lush greens and soft pinks, above a sea of misty clouds. Swarms of petals carried on the wind, the breeze creating a soft chord as it washed over the land and foliage. **(A/N: This mountain was inspired by Yoshino. It's an amazingly beautiful area. I have a picture on my profile. Be sure to look!)**

Scattered at various intervals down the mountain, on either side of the steep cobbled path, which formed a winding 's' shape, were buildings constructed from a reddish wood, all styled in traditional Japanese architecture. Strung across the front of each were large banners, decorated with characters I couldn't understand. Hundreds of Japanese lanterns with attached wind-chimes floated between and over the structures—a stretching coil of deep blues, cyans, emerald greens, magentas, royal purples, and sharp silvers. Against the pink shelter of the mountain trees, this place would look spectacular at night time.

"Wow," Charlie breathed, sharing my sentiments.

"I know."

We must have spent another five minutes simply taking in our surroundings. In that time, Charlie asked how the wizards managed to keep non-magical people at bay, especially those living in the nearby villages. When I told him of the various Muggle-repelling charms my kind made use of, he accepted my explanation without question. I mentally thanked Haruki for introducing the sake.

There were very few people out and about. I wasn't sure whether that was a result of the fact that the shops hadn't been open long, or because it was a naturally quiet area. Maybe it would get busier as the day went on.

We made our way down from the village bar, walking along the jade and terracotta cobbles until we came to the first building. It wasn't until we were a few metres away that I noticed the different sized baubles hanging from the edge of the roof. All the buildings were decorated in the same way, more than likely for the Christmas holidays.

There were no glass windows to see through, only the traditional opaque screens, all of which were shut. The double doors at the front of the store, however, were standing wide open, allowing a strong woody incense—sandalwood, perhaps—to escape from inside.

"Looks like it sells a bit of everything," I decided, peering in at the merchandise, which ranged from fossils of magical creatures to antique armillary spheres. "Come on. This looks like a good place to start."

Charlie stayed close by me as we made our way around the shop. Every now and then, his fingers would graze a particular item, and curiosity would fill his eyes, but then he'd catch me smiling, and would quickly shift back to his feigned indifference. He couldn't keep the interest off his face, however, when we came across a set of long fishing rods, held up by the porcelain vase they stood in.

They were all made from polished bamboo, some thicker and longer than others, and were already strung with thin, silver line, from the end of which there dangled a shiny hook.

Charlie extracted the thickest, longest one, and whistled, running a hand over the silver handle. "Now this is what I'm talking about," he purred. "What a beauty."

I ran my eyes over the label attached to the vase, but the letters meant nothing to me. "I wonder what it does."

"Does?" Charlie gave me a funny look and chuckled. "Well allow me to explain the basics of fishing."

"You know what I mean," I said, rolling my eyes. "It must have something magical about it, or else why would it be in a shop like this?"

The smile instantly dropped from Charlie's face, only to be replaced with a look of disappointment. With an expression that was somewhere between bitter and regretful, he returned the rod to its place.

The young lady behind the counter paid us no mind as we neared, nor did she seem to respond to the fact that we clearly weren't from the area. I quickly realised that that probably had something to do with the fact that the place attracted quite a few out-of-towners. That became obvious when a pale skinned witch wearing a Victorian style top hat ambled into the shop.

She had white-blonde plaited hair trailing all the way to her waist, and with the right outfit, she could've look like something out of a high fashion magazine. However, she'd chosen to combined her already eccentric image with a gold sari and dozens of Indian bangles, creating a total mish-mash of era and culture. Whoever she was, the woman was definitely ambitious in her trend-setting hobby. I just hoped she never crossed paths with Alice.

Charlie stood wide-eyed as she sashayed past us, before finally murmuring, "Interesting bunch of people you hang with, Bells."

"It certainly keeps life colourful," I answered, pulling him over to the far right corner of the shop, where there rested a mountain of books.

Most were bound in thick leather, a few of which had their spines protected with metal coverings. The only thing that any of them really had in common was that they were some of the oldest and thickest tomes I had ever seen, excluding those resting in the Hogwarts library.

Amongst the piles, I could only discern a few English titles, including: _Olde Secretes _and _The Celestial Manuscript._ A flick through the pages told me that the content was almost as indecipherable as that belonging to the foreign texts, since they had been written in an archaic form of English.

A feminine cough from behind grabbed my attention. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that the counter lady had her eye on me, at the same time pointing in the direction of a nearby table. Curious, I took a step toward it; the woman nodded. I took a few more steps; the woman nodded more vigorously.

It was covered in a red satin sheet, and held a number of interesting looking implements. I ran my hand over each, noticing how the woman shook her head and waved me onto the next. She held up a hand, indicating I should stop, when my hand came to rest over a peculiar magnifying glass.

The long handle was made of polished brass, as was the rim, which was engraved all the way around the edge with tiny writing from dozens of different languages.

"I offer meaning …" I read, locating the English.

Charlie leaned in over my shoulder to read the same phrase. "I offer meaning … I offer meaning?"

As I traced the engravings with my fingertip, a sudden idea occurred to me, and I quickly ran back to the books, where I held it over one with a Latin title. It said: _Les Mondes Cachés._

Ok, so the magnifying glass liked French, but that didn't exactly help me.

"There must be a way to get it to read in English," I muttered, twisting it in my hands. Only a few seconds had passed when I realised the handle's end acted as a dial. Turning it, I watched the text before me transform into Spanish, and then German. Finally, it shimmered into English, and I marvelled as I read what should have been Latin.

_The Hidden Worlds._

In my excitement, I flipped the book halfway open, landing on a page explaining why the wizards and witches of Atlantis had decided to sink their own city, and how they had gone about doing it.

I must've read over twenty titles before Charlie surprised me by snatching the translation tool from my hand. Without explanation, he marched off, and didn't come to a stop until he reached the fishing rods.

"Enchanted fishing rods with far-flying wires … With a simple flick of the wrist, watch as your hook travels twice the distance! Comes with a magical hook, which transfigures into a flobberworm when submerged in water, and then back again when bitten."

"Well, there you go, Dad!" I chuckled. "You wont even have to watch the transfiguration as it happens! The only difference you'll get with this is that people will think you've improved your throwing technique."

"Yeah," he grinned, eyeing the rods with renewed desire. After a moment, however, he remembered that I was watching him, and attempted to banish the sparkle from his eyes. Laughing, I picked the largest rod from the vase and set off towards the counter.

"Hey, wait! What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I'm buying you a Christmas present."

"What? No, Bells, you don't have to—"

"I want to," I interrupted, handing both objects to the sales woman. She smiled and set about bagging them up for me, though I stopped her before she could put away the magnifying glass. Understanding my meaning, she handed it back unwrapped, and allowed me to pay.

After leaving the store, I used the magnifying glass to help navigate our retail journey down the winding path of the mountain side, barely ever pulling it away from my eyes. Charlie made some crack relating to Sherlock Holmes; I, naturally, retaliated with my own little joke, through which he became 'Watson', the trusty sidekick.

A small stationary store was our next stop, where I picked up a magical art set for Esme. It was made up of seven different sized brushes, one pencil, a pastel crayon, a piece of chalk, a quill, a pot of ink, a sharpener, and a magic eraser. What was so lovely about the set was that you could command each instrument to use whatever colour you desired. If you needed cerulean for an ocean painting, you'd dip a brush in water, call out that very colour, and you'd have it! The same rule applied with oil paints, along with the ink which came included.

The only place we could go for Alice's gift was the clothier's. Since I was no fashion guru, picking something out from the racks of luxurious hanging garments wasn't easy in the slightest. For a start, I didn't want to buy something and it end up being the wrong size; also, the sparkling and shimmering fabrics intimidated me a little. The dresses looked as if they could've been worn by empresses.

When my eyes found the bag section at the back of the shop, therefore, I automatically drifted in that direction.

_Let's face it, _I thought_, Alice can work with any style or colour scheme, so it doesn't matter what I pick out, as long as it's pretty._

So that's what I did. I searched along the racks looking over the different designs. There was a satchel that reminded me of the sofa I'd seen in _Cotton & Tweed's _window display, because it kept switching its pattern from purple snakeskin to tiger stripes.

Eventually, I found the right present for my pixie-vampire friend, one that acted as a perfect representation for the place it had been made. It was lined with ivory taffeta, and was covered with layers of overlapping petals of varying shades of cream and pink. According to the label, it carried Protection and Preservation Charms to keep the keep the delicate attachments both fresh and intact, along with Weightless and Undetectable Extension Charms for excellent storage.

"That's you, Carlisle, Esme, and Alice down," I said, ticking the names off on my fingers.

Charlie's brow furrowed. "Carlisle? What did you get Carlisle?"

I waved the magnifying glass at him. "He's into research. He's pretty fluent in most languages, but he hasn't learnt to translate runes yet, or the ancient, dead wizarding languages. It might come in handy when he's looking through those old books he found in St Mungo's archives."

It was twelve o'clock in Mahouyama, when the two of us stopped for dinner, according to the silver sundial outside the restaurant. The structure reminded me of a band stand; it was an octagonal raised platform without walls, its roof supported by wooden stilts, up which grew bright blue creepers with purple flowers. All in all, it was a very pretty place, situated half way down the 's' shaped trail atop a wide overhang, overlooking the lovely pink and emerald landscape, and the low, misty cloud bank.

We received a few odd looks as we examined the menu through the magnifier, and a few more after the young waiter brought our food, since Charlie was apparently terrible with chopsticks. What made it worse was the fact that we'd ordered Ramen, so he spent a whole five minutes trying to pick up the noodles with no success, before he slammed his sticks down in irritation.

My body shook as I laughed silently into my bowl. In the end, though, I took out my wand and conjured two sets of more familiar eating utensils—spoons and forks—and we used them in the same way you would when eating spaghetti. Still, it took another three minutes' practice before Charlie could keep his food from slipping back into the dish, but, finally, he got it.

Despite his earlier irritation with his chopsticks, he took one with him when we left, and surprised me by holding it out before him, so that the tip was aimed at my chest like a fencing sword.

I cracked out laughing as he called out the words, "Abracadabra!" and pulled out my wand, retaliating with my own spell, which turned his nose into a shiny red ball, like that of a clown's.

He immediately responded by folding his arms across his chest, assuming a very grumpy pose. "Daz nod fuddy," he grumbled, sounding congested, or as if he'd had his nose broken, which, I suppose, he had.

Giggling, I reversed the spell, and his attitude brightened immediately. He sent a playful glare in my direction, before we both broke out into mirthful chuckles.

It was a relief to see that Charlie was beginning to loosen up. I was surprised by how quickly that had happened. I'd expected him to stay a sickly shade of green for days on end, yet here he was, travelling through a village, home to dozens of witches and wizards, with a wrapped magical fishing rod tucked under his arm, seeming completely at ease.

Perhaps that was the solution—to launch people into it suddenly and without warning, so that they had no time to try and explain it all with bad reasoning and excuses.

We searched every nook and cranny of every shop on our journey to the bottom of the village, never coming across anything that seemed as if it would make a good gift for the remaining Cullens.

I'd almost completely lost hope as we stopped before the final store, especially when I realised it was a jewellers. I couldn't exactly see Edward wearing a necklace; still, we'd tried everywhere else, so we entered anyway.

The place was illuminated by soft candlelight, which glinted off the various gems and trinkets. It was a square room, with open ebony cabinets placed all the way around the edges, all holding gold and silver items, along with pearls, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and every other precious material imaginable.

Charlie released a long, impressed whistle as his eyes raked over the jewellery.

In the centre of the store, running parallel to the paying counter, was a long, thin table. Immediately, my eyes caught on a pinky-peach, drawn like iron filings to a magnet. I bent down to examine the peculiar piece, unsure why this one in particular had so quickly demanded my attention.

It wasn't something I could imagine myself wearing, but it was incredibly beautiful nonetheless. Lifting the magnifying glass, I read the card placed alongside it.

_White gold fertility ring with red coral rose centrepiece. Coral (fertility charm) soaked in Felix Felicis prior to manufacture for extra luck. May you bear many sons!_

I arched an eyebrow at that last line, and quickly handed the magnifying glass to my dad, before carefully picking the ring up off the table. Sure enough, the rose-shaped centrepiece shimmered with lustrous golden flecks; not a normal characteristic of the precious marine organism, though it would take more than a bit of luck to help Rosalie.

Everything about the ring screamed her name at me, as if the world was trying to send me some enormous clue. The only problem was the price tag. Although it wasn't disastrously expensive, it was still twice as much as the amount I'd spent on Alice. I'd have to buy her a little something extra to even it out.

I moved towards the small line forming by the cashier's desk, but stopped upon hearing the call of my name.

"Come and have a look at this, Bells," Charlie said, his face hidden as he stood with his back to me, peering into one of the cabinets surrounding the room. I joined him, quickly realising at the sight of the chunky chains, the thick wristbands, and the combination of dark materials and sharp metallics that the cabinet before us held more masculine pieces.

Charlie pointed, directing my eyes towards platinum and black leather, and held the translator over the attached label.

Slowly but surely, my smile spread wider and wider, until I felt my cheeks dimple. "Dad, you are a total genius."

"I didn't realise you were going to buy it," Charlie said as we left the jewellers. "Why would Edward need one of those anyway? Don't you think that kind of thing is better suited to international spies and police states?"

I rolled my eyes as we ambled over to a nearby bench. "Are you kidding? This is perfect for Edward. Maybe this will stop him from worrying so much."

"Why would he worry?" Charlie questioned, plonking the bags he held down on the floor.

"He seems to think I'm a danger magnet," I admitted, biting my lip as I considered my next words. In the end, I decided to tell Charlie about what had happened with Tyler Crowley's van, along with the incident that had occurred in Port Angeles. His nostrils flared with that second story, like a bull's that's about to charge, his knuckles turning white, whilst his jaw clenched in fury.

"Edward said that he was stronger than most people. Did he break their jaws?" he growled. I'd never seen Charlie look this livid before, not even when he'd confronted the vampire in question on our return from Italy. In truth, I was a little frightened by his intensity.

I shook my head. "No, but I found out later—quite a bit later, actually—that he and Carlisle had gone back for them after he'd taken me home. Edward found their minds, Carlisle sedated them, and then they tipped off the police. It wasn't long before the bad guys were being extradited back to Texas."

"THAT GUY?" I jumped as Charlie shot up off the bench. Tremors racked his frame as he towered over me. "The one on the news? That … that serial rapist slash murderer was the one that was going to get you?"

"Dad, calm—"

"Calm down? Calm down? How am I suppose to do that?" he demanded, red-faced.

"By remembering that I'm alive and he's on Death Row!" I answered loudly, wincing a little afterwards. As much as the man deserved it, I wasn't a supporter of the death penalty. I couldn't get past the hypocrisy of it. Regardless of that, however, the reminder seemed to placate my father.

He even had some nice words to say about my vampire, about how the world would be a much better place if it had 'more Edwards looking after it.'

Ah, yes, Edward the Batman.

Once Charlie's skin had completely lost its furious scarlet shade, we began our climb back up the long, cobbled, 's' shaped path. The gradient was moderately steep, so by the time we'd got half way, the two of us were breaking a sweat. I was seriously regretting the fact that I hadn't brought my magic purse, but then I remembered the gift I'd bought for Alice, into which I transferred the rest off our purchases, before I re-wrapped the petal bag once more.

Charlie was bemused by the idea of 'wizard-space', and chuckled in acceptance. The last half of the journey was much easier once we'd shed the extra weight. A light breeze picked up as we neared _The Spinning Dragon, _setting the wind-chimes singing.

Haruki was standing outside as we neared, magically transporting what I took to be empty kegs with his wand. He waved upon seeing us, and cried a greeting.

"You going home already?" he asked, disappointed.

I nodded. "We got all the stuff we needed." Technically, that wasn't true; I still had to buy for Jasper and Emmett, but I hadn't found anything here for them that had caught my eye, which was why I'd be visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow. Then, maybe, I'd be able to see George and give him my best.

The old Japanese landlord frowned and looked over his shoulder. I followed his line of sight past the tall, cylindrical drinking house, to the cherry blossoms behind. There was a gap in the line of trees, between which laid a steep stone staircase leading up the mountainside. After what had to be at least a hundred feet, it veered off in a different direction, disappearing behind the trees.

"Have you been to see her yet?"

I felt my brow furrow with confusion.

"The Seer." At our lost expressions, Haruki explained. "She is a prophetess, and the most respected witch on Mahouyama. When outsiders visit the village, it is to see _her_. If you go, you will not regret it."

A reading? I pondered the idea for a moment, my gaze flicking to Charlie, who looked a little scared at the prospect of being told his future.

_Oh, what the heck! It might be fun. She's probably just an old fraud anyway, just like Sibyl Trelawney._

"How about it, Dad?"

"I don't know, Bells."

Haruki flashed behind the two of us and gently pushed us forwards. I didn't resist, unlike my father, who tried ever so slightly to stop himself from being thrust towards the staircase.

"Charlie Swan, you must learn to not worry so much."

The man waited at the bottom of the steps to make sure the two of us didn't turn back. Clearly, the people were very proud of their Seer.

"I don't know about this, Bells," Charlie murmured. "Should we really be straying away from the main track?"

"Not scared are you Dad?" I chuckled, looking back over my shoulder. He grunted in response, quickening his pace to catch up with me.

After five minutes of climbing, we were almost at the peak of the mountain, but the trees were just as thick up here as they seemed to be at the base. Dozens of wind-chimes hung from their branches, creating high, bell-like sounds.

Finally, the two of us reached the top of the narrow staircase. A large torii gateway stood over the path, marking our transition from the profane into an entirely more spiritual area—the home of the Mahouyama Seer. The second I had passed through, I was immediately hit by a floral perfume. It smelled exactly like that of the Cherry Blossoms, only stronger and muddled with some additional fragrance.

Up ahead was a small circular courtyard, surrounded by bushes sprouting pinky-red flowers, a species I didn't recognise. At the centre, sat cross-legged on the stone cobbles with her back to us, was the woman I took to be the Seer.

"Sit," she instructed, without turning to look in our direction, gesturing to both her left and right.

Charlie threw me a nervous glance. I smiled encouragingly, before going to sit on the right of the elderly woman, whose face was more lined than any other I had ever seen, her eyes barely visible beneath the drooping skin of her eyelids.

Her hair was the colour of snow, and was pulled back into a tidy bun at the back of her head. She wore loose-fitting garments of murky brown—nothing fancy like I'd been expecting. Her gloves were the most extravagant thing about her; they were made from jade and white silk.

Before her, built onto the floor, was a peculiar design. It was a ring, about a metre and a half in diameter, made up of a stone border. The circle formed a very shallow basin, one which held a few centimetres of water. The liquid was extremely clear and completely still. Beneath it, painted onto the marble base was what looked like a map of the solar system, the sun depicted at the centre, with the planets and their moons arranged around it.

"I've been expecting you," she stated, plucking pink petals from the flower bud she held.

_How predictable, _I thought sceptically.

She dropped each petal into the small stone bowl in her lap, moving onto the next bud when there were none left to pull. Whilst she was busy with her task, I took the time to look around a little more.

There wasn't a house nearby that I could see, but there was a path to the north leading off into the trees. Maybe it led to her home. I couldn't imagine a little old woman making the same climb we'd just completed day in day out, on her way to and from work. Then again, she was a witch, so why would she need to? If she lived in the village, she'd just be able to apparate up.

"This meeting is one I have been anticipating for a long long time," she said, surprising me.

"Really?" I answered, opting for polite interest.

The woman nodded. "Since 1918."

I tensed in an instant, her words causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. "I'm sorry."

Without stopping her busy fingers, she looked up from her work to meet my gaze. "I first saw this meeting, amongst other things, in 1918. Does that year mean something to you?"

I nodded.

The old woman didn't look surprised in the slightest. "Many things were set in motion then," she added, her eyes meeting mine again. "Some things are fixed in time, but the bits in between are not. For example, you were always destined to cross paths with _him_, Isabella Swan."

"Edward?" asked Charlie, eyes wide, now completely riveted to the woman.

"Yes. That meeting was anchored in certainty—unavoidable." With a very serious expression, the Seer lifted the bowl from her lap and lowered it onto the floor before her. Then, she gestured to the shallow, circular basin. "You came for a reading, yes?"

"Yes," I confirmed, my tone suggesting a confused mix of respect and doubt. Pulling two galleons from my purse, I passed them to her with a shaky hand, dropping them into her waiting palm. "We'd both like one, if that's alright."

"Of course." She smiled then. The sight put me at ease a little, for it warmed her aged face. "I am Chiyoko. My great ancestors built this place over one thousand years ago, passing the sight—" she tapped her forehead with a wrinkled finger, "on to the next generation. Now _I _guard this place, like my father before me."

"So it runs in the family then?" Charlie clarified. "This _seeing _business."

"Yes." Chiyoko picked up the stone bowl and held it out to Charlie. "Take a handful," she instructed, "and then drop them into the water."

"And what will that do?"

The woman let out a deep, throaty chuckle at my father's wary expression. Placing the bowl on the floor, she waved a hand to the water, and said, "Try to touch the bottom."

"What?"

"The water—dip your hand in until it touches the bottom."

Though a very defined crease appeared directly between Charlie's eyes, confused as he was by the odd command, he complied nonetheless, extending a hand towards the flat surface. His finger bent strangely as it touched the fluid, as if encountering some opposing force. Grunting, he withdrew his hand, before closely inspecting his finger, which seemed to be completely dry.

"The mirror is charmed," Chiyoko revealed. "It has been since its creation. Nothing can pass through the surface. This was the very same water my ancestors used, and it remains untainted. It has had one thousand years to harness the power of the sun, moon and stars. For that reason, it is a very powerful instrument, one in tune with the heavens."

Accepting the woman's words, my dad reached into the stone bowl and grabbed a handful of petals. They floated slowly down in a shower of baby pink and magenta as he sprinkled them over the water. For a moment, they merely rested where they had fallen atop the glassy barrier.

I felt slightly silly as I sat there on edge—Divination was a questionable art in my opinion, one which produced answers that were vague at the most.

So why was it that I was suddenly so tense?

Without warning, the petals began to move, yet there wasn't even the hint of a breeze in the enclosed courtyard.

"Ah," breathed Chiyoko, "look!" She pointed to the petals, which were now collecting together, forming a clump in the middle of the basin. It drifted slowly over the water, hovering for a few seconds over each planet it chose to travel to. In the end, one minute after they had fallen from Charlie's palm, the movement stopped.

My dad slowly raised his eyes to me. His lips were pressed into a hard line, like he wanted to laugh for some reason. "Well," he said, "that was informative."

I masked my own laugh with a cough, unable to fully suppress my amusement.

Chiyoko sat a little straighter and folded her arms, clearly irritated. "The mirror revealed many things about your past and future, Charlie Swan. You suffered a great loss many years ago—a misfortune in your love life."

Charlie coughed, now uncomfortable.

"That void shall be filled soon enough."

Oh, yeah?" he chortled. "Who's the lucky lady?"

Chiyoko smiled. "Someone who has suffered a loss of her own—the death of a partner perhaps. You remember the movement from Pluto to Venus? Love born from loss."

Personally, I couldn't see it. Charlie hadn't had any romantic attachments in all the time I could remember. I arched an eyebrow at him. "Got any ideas?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "Not a clue."

"It will all become clear to you in time, I'm sure," the Seer said, holding a black wand out over the basin, angling it downwards.

In a reverse twister, the narrowest section of the funnel touching the tip, the petals were sucked quickly up into the air. The elderly witch discarded them onto the floor beside her, after which she held the bowl up to me, eyes hard like obsidian rock.

"Brace yourself, child."

My stomach dropped at her solemn warning, a sense of foreboding quickly stealing over me.

She already knew something about my future. What was it?

With a long, deep breath, I scooped up a handful of petals. They felt silkier than I'd been expecting, like spider thread. My skin tingled as I ran them between my fingers, until it felt as if an electric current was pulsing over my hand. With my breath held, I cast them into the basin.

Unlike last time, they didn't move in a clump, but, rather, formed a thin, pink line—perfectly straight—one end connecting to Venus, the other to Mars. I knew little when it came to reading the stars, but I was aware of the basic principles: Venus governed love; Mars governed war.

My eyes snapped to the Seer, who released a tired sigh. "What is it?"

She met my gaze, her own face filled with pity, which only served in heightening my anxiety. "As I have already told you, my first vision of you came a very long time ago, before even your parents were born."

I nodded.

"I am a Seer as you know. I have had many visions in my lifetime, all of which have proved to be accurate. But even for me, it is not common to _see _the path of a person so far in advance, because the future is not set in stone. It can be changed…

"But not this one," she whispered.

My heart pounded in my chest. I was barely conscious of the way I was leaning further and further forwards, desperate as I was for information.

"There is a plan for you, Bella Swan," she said, pointing to the water, where the petals still connected the two planets. "You are trapped in a tug of war between Venus and Mars—between love and war … between happily ever after and absolute tragedy."

"What does _that _mean?" I demanded.

"It means that one of them has to win out... in the end. They have been fighting over you ever since you met Edward Cullen."

Charlie's jaw clenched. "So this _is _his fault!"

"No, it is not!" Chiyoko snapped, her eyes swimming with a sudden fire, startling my father. It surprised me that such a small and frail looking woman could assert so much authority, but she had, and Charlie quickly sank back into silence. "If your daughter's immortal were to undergo the same reading, his would result in exactly the same pattern!

"Don't you understand it yet, Charlie Swan?" she questioned. "They _cannot _live without each other. The heavens would simply _not _allow it. Do you think, after months of not _seeing _Bella, it was accident and chance that brought Alice a vision of her jumping from the cliff?"

In truth, Charlie didn't know much about this particular subject, but that didn't stop him from wincing.

"It was not accident, and it was not chance. It was the pull of—"

"Look," I interrupted abruptly, too impatient for cryptic conversation, "can you just give it to me straight? What _exactly _does all this mean?"

There was a long pause, where the Seer's expression became unsure, as if there was something she really didn't want to tell me—something she knew I wouldn't want to hear.

With her eyes closed, she finally spoke. "You are locked between Venus and Mars, Bella Swan. You have no choice but to see your love through to the end with Edward Cullen. Should you give up on Venus, Mars shall triumph, and your life will sink into tragedy and death."

Charlie gasped, his face crumpling with pain.

"That is the only way for you now. Edward is your only chance at a happy future. At any future."

I barked a laugh. "Well I could've told you that from the beginning."

"That is not all," she warned sadly. My smile faded and I nodded for her to continue. "Venus shall fight for you—for your happy ending—but the harder she pulls, the—"

"The harder Mars will too," I guessed.

Chiyoko nodded. "You've already witnessed Mars' dangerous influence: the almost car-crash; the men who tried to kill you in Port Angeles; the evil immortal you met by coincidence, who forced you to flee Forks ..."

Charlie's brow knitted with confusion.

"... the one who put you in that hospital in Phoenix," the Seer said for his benefit.

His eyes flared with fire as the realisation hit.

"The one the Cullens killed to save you."

My skin felt as if it would burn under the intensity of Charlie's glare.

"You and me are going to have a little chat when we get home," he growled.

"And then, of course," the Seer continued, undeterred by the rising tension, "there was his girlfriend to deal with. I trust your daughter has already explained the strength of the bond that develops once an immortal chooses a mate, Charlie Swan?"

"She might have mentioned it," he said without breaking eye contact.

"Well, once that bond is formed, it is permanent. The Cullens destroyed an immortal bent on murdering Bella, as it was the only way to save her. Because of that, his mate set out to destroy her in revenge. A mate for a mate. She brought an entire army with her to Forks. Luckily, there were friends on hand to help, so everyone survived… except the enemies, that is."

_Why not just tell him everything? _I thought bitterly, wishing the woman would hold her tongue. _Go ahead! Just tell him the Cullens are vampires! Why the hell did I ever think this would be a good idea?_

Charlie now looked completely distraught, his head falling into his hands. Chiyoko gazed upon him with sympathy, before turning her penetrating stare on me.

"You see, child? With each new challenge there comes a greater potential for disaster. It is the battle. The battle between the planets! Time has brought you closer to your mate, but it has also brought more dangerous threats to tear you apart! Mars does not want to see this love fulfilled."

I nodded. Everything this woman had stressed somehow made sense. Edward and I had faced one challenge after another, and, obviously, there would be more.

"So what next?"

...

"Pain fills your future," she whispered, "physical pain for you; mental and emotional pain for Edward. Pain, war, and the possibility of your own destruction. The universe requires balance; it will not allow you to achieve eternal happiness until you have suffered first, and even then, Mars may still win out."

My head slipped forwards into my hands, so that my pose mirrored Charlie's. Was Chiyoko referring to more than just the three days of hell-fire? Wasn't that enough of a payment? I'd felt it before, and I would have said so. What did the cosmos have in store for me now?

"You said you've had visions?" I whispered. "What did you see?"

There was a moment's pause, before Chiyoko sighed. "I cannot tell you everything. It would have a negative effect on your path."

"Well, what _can _you tell us?" Charlie barked, his head snapping up.

"That it would be inadvisable for Bella to spend all her time at Hogwarts during Easter, as she has planned to do."

"Why? What's going to happen at Easter?"

The Seer conjured three cups, pouring into them steaming tea from a china pot, which had previously been sitting beside her. I hadn't noticed it until now. She passed one cup to Charlie, and one to me, keeping the last for herself, lifting it to her lips to sip the herbal fluid.

"You wish to expose the leaks within the Ministry, do you not?"

"Of course," I answered, still baffled, "but how am I supposed to do that?"

"That I must not tell you," she said matter-of-factly. "The only advice I can give you is to exercise vigilance. The clues will come to you in time."

"And what then? When the Death Eaters have been captured, what then?"

"Then," smiled Chiyoko, "you shall enjoy a very happy summer. You shall marry—"

"WHAT?" bellowed Charlie, knocking over the teapot accidentally as he pounced to his feet.

I groaned and let my head fall into my hands again. Edward and I had never told Charlie about our engagement. We hadn't seen the need, since we were putting the wedding on hold for another year. On the bright side of things, at least Chiyoko had saved us a job.

She quickly saw to the spilled tea, but didn't pass up the opportunity to scold my dad, who towered over the two of us, now completely enraged.

"Oh, sit down, Charlie Swan!" she ordered, whacking the back of his legs. "Have you not been paying attention?"

"Yeah, yeah—Bella and Edward must stay together or suffer a terrible tragedy! Yada, yada, yada. That doesn't mean they have to get married!"

"The stronger their link, the greater sway Venus will have," the Seer jabbered offhandedly. "If they do not marry Mars will win out Bella will suffer and ultimately die a tragic death take your pick." Despite everything, I really wanted to laugh at the ultimatum Chiyoko dealt my father. She hadn't even stopped to breathe, and I doubted that she was being entirely truthful, but we both knew my dad wasn't going to argue if there was even the slightest possibility I might literally die if I didn't marry Edward.

Charlie turned away from us, kicking a lone pebble resting at the toe of his boot, muttering something incomprehensible. The elderly woman quickly winked at me whilst he had his back turned. Somehow, I managed to contain my laughter, but I couldn't resist the urge to send her a grateful wink in return.

Whilst Charlie sulked, the woman assured me in excited whispers, like a gushing teenage school girl, that I would have a _very _good wedding and honeymoon. This filled me with immense satisfaction, as well as increasing my liking for the mysterious witch. It was what she told me after that set me shuddering.

"Make no mistake, child, there is more to this than you realise. Your relationship with your immortal serves a higher purpose, one which will become clear with time. It is the reason you have been brought together by these unseen forces—the reason why you shall have to suffer. There is something you must do—a task you must fulfil for the universe, before the universe will grant you peace."

We fell into silence then, which was only accentuated by the bell-like music of the wind-chimes as the breeze forced the metal tubes to gently collide. Chiyoko continued to sip her tea; neither Charlie or me touched ours. I was too busy thinking, and Charlie was already simmering. The last thing he needed was something hot. He might spontaneously combust otherwise.

_I always knew there'd be pain, I suppose, and the venom burn is the worst kind. What's a little more?_

"Are you sure there's nothing else you can tell me?" I asked the Seer, who shook her head in response.

"Only that Edward shall come to visit me himself within the next year. He'll want answers. I will not give them to him myself, but I shall tell him where to find them."

"Answers to what?" I demanded.

"That is between me and Edward," the woman responded cryptically, draining the last of her tea.

I sighed. "Alright. Anything else?"

"Yes: when Venus makes her path across the sun, two destinies her wondrous spell shall seal … "

I stared blankly as the woman trailed off into silence, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, I had to push for more information, but she refused to explain her strange words, preferring instead to refill her cup, before telling my father and me that she had shared with us all the information that she could.

The woman rose to her feet as Charlie and I prepared to leave. My dad had spent the last few minutes of the reading in total silence. I wondered what conclusions he'd come to in that time. Before we left, I received a hug from Chiyoko, who smiled at me reassuringly, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening even more so.

"Don't worry," she said, patting my hands. "It will all work out in the end. I have a sixth sense for these things."

I returned her smile with a shaky one of my own, and answered, "I hope you're right."

The Cullens were all back when Charlie and I poured out through the fireplace. We entered the room to the sound of my lullaby, for which I was extremely grateful. Edward smiled at me from his piano bench as his fingers waltzed over the keys, melting away all my anxiety with one look.

My dad marched over to him without pause, turning the vampire's happy expression to one of seriousness. I was about to protest, worried that an argument would soon break out, but Edward stood up from his place before I could, and gestured to the front door of the house.

"Right this way. I'll drive you home. We can talk about it on the way."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "Where are you going?"

"Charlie wants to have a word."

My eyes snapped to my dad, my expression turning to one of disapproval. " Dad," I warned, "don't—"

"Don't 'don't' me, young lady," he cut in, his voice angry. "I would've had this conversation with you, but since you've kept everything else from me, I'm getting it via a different source. Now you're going to stay here, whilst Edward and I go have a man to man. And he won't be coming back until I have the answers I want! Once he has, you can do that … that … apparatus thing and come home. Until then, stay here!"

And with that, he marched away and out the front door, Edward following closely behind him. Before I heard the car engine start, I spoke out at a normal volume, listing all the things that had happened in the past that Charlie had found out about.

"He doesn't know you're a vampire, but he knows about James and Victoria. Don't tell him about the wolves."

The wait until Edward's return seemed like ages. In that time, I learned that Alice knew about the Seer's predictions, but she hadn't had time to tell Edward, since the boys had gotten back only a minute or so before Charlie and me.

"Brilliant!" I groaned, knocking my head against her knees in frustration as I allowed her to plait my hair. We were sitting in Edward's room, her on the couch, me on the thick carpet. The way she ran her fingers through my hair, gently loosening the knots, was actually rather nice. Under any other circumstances, I would've been completely soothed by it. "It couldn't be any worse, could it?"

"I'm not convinced," she sniffed, clearly bitter. "I mean, this woman could be a total fraud! Think about it, Bella. The entire wizarding world knows about you and Edward. I'm sure it wouldn't have been _so _hard to get hold of information regarding your past; nor would it have been too difficult to expand on that. I'm telling you now, this woman is just another doom and gloom phoney. She's Trelawney in a kimono."

I chuckled. "Jealous?"

"What? Me? Of an old crone? Please!"

I rolled my eyes at her stubborn attitude, but wondered afterwards whether she was right. In truth, how hard would it be for someone to use the widely published details and circulating rumours to come up with some ridiculous concoction like the one I'd been recently dealt. And Charlie—get a girlfriend?

_Yep, the more I think about it, the more it seems like total crap. There's no more disasters waiting to befall us, _I told myself. _Alice is completely right, as always!_

"He's back," she announced suddenly. I tense up immediately. "He's had to explain to your father that there are some bad immortals, just as there are bad humans. It's a good job you mentioned the incident in Port Angeles. Charlie doesn't think that anything or anyone could be worse than _that._"

And that was all she had to say to convince me that the Mahouyama Seer had been right. All I needed to be reminded of was the fact that we'd been forced to suffer blow after blow after blow. There were the battles at Hogwarts too. Trouble seemed to follow us everywhere!

The pixie vampire gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before she got up and danced out of the room. A nervousness suddenly overtook me, and I found that I could hear each distinct thud of my heart as it echoed down the veins, hammering the pulse against my temples.

The door to the room slowly swung open, and there he was, looking just as perfect as always. His bronze, messy hair had little white clumps in it—it must be snowing outside—and his irises smouldered, sea green around the edges, but blending into onyx around the pupils, evidence of his growing thirst.

Without saying a word, he closed the distance between us, and pulled me into his arms.

"What happened?" I whispered.

For a moment, he didn't answer, the subsequent silence stretching out like a vast sea. When he did reply, however, his tone was unreadable, making it almost impossible for me to determine the emotions raging within him.

"I'd expected him to be angry," he said carefully, pulling back to look at me. "He was before we left, and I didn't anticipate that that would change… "

"But?"

"But as soon as we got into the car, he did a complete U-turn. His anger burned up into pain, and he all but begged for honesty. He wanted to know about how many times you'd come close to death. I told him about James."

"Why did James want to kill me? What reason did you give him?" I asked quickly. Charlie would've wanted to know.

Edward frowned. "I told him the truth, or part of it, anyway: that James didn't like the look I gave him. That he was a very old and bored immortal, and that his inhumane nature meant that he found killing to be an amusing pastime. Charlie didn't question me on that, but I had to tell him then about the monsters amongst _your _kind. I thought it would prevent him from developing a prejudice against my family if I pointed out there's evil in every species."

He looked at me for reassurance, wanting to make sure I approved of his decision.

"You were right to tell him," I nodded. "He already knows so much now anyway."

Edward raked a hand through his snow-covered hair and exhaled a tired breath. The actions revealed just how stressful the last hour had been for him.

"I explained about the battles at the school … about how Muggle-Borns were persecuted by Voldemort and his supporters. He didn't like that," he murmured ominously, his eyes darkening a shade, "—that is daughter was a victim of unjustified discrimination.

"The more I told him, the more supportive his thoughts became for me and my family. He realised that there'd been a good reason for all those times you'd left without fully explaining yourself—that they were life or death situations and that you'd really had no choice."

I sighed heavily. "Well, at least that's something."

Edward nodded, before throwing himself back into his retelling of the discussion. "He came to the conclusion, after receiving more or less the entire story, that his previous beliefs about me were completely false, and apologised again for his behaviour."

For the first time since my vampire fiancé had arrived home, I smiled widely. "Does this mean you and my dad are finally getting along?"

Edward couldn't seem to help himself; he grinned widely and nodded. "I even asked for his permission to marry you." My smile faded instantly as I winced, which only caused Edward to laugh loudly. "Oh, don't worry; he said yes."

"He did?"

Edward chuckled again, this time at my incredulousness, and nodded. "He knows I had an old fashioned upbringing, so to speak, and is entirely convinced of my honourable intentions. Also, after discovering that you're a danger magnet, he's decided you need me around for your own safety.

"That was one of his terms. _'I'll agree on one condition,_" he said, in a perfect imitation of my father's voice, "_you have to swear you'll do everything in your power to keep her alive.' _I agreed, naturally."

"What then?" I pressed, enjoying the warmth building in my chest as my mind conjured images from a very happy future, one where Charlie patted Edward's back in an amiable and relaxed manner, slinging an arm over his shoulder—one where they could laugh and joke together, good friends at last.

Edward pulled me down onto the golden comforter of his bed, still grinning. "You might want to sit down for this. It's a bit difficult to believe."

"That out of character?"

"Oh yes … He offered me a beer," Edward burst, grinning like a Cheshire cat, as if this was the most wonderful and unbelievable news in history.

I pressed my lips into hard line as I tried not to laugh. "That's it? That's what has you all excited? You don't even drink beer."

"That's not the point. It's a breakthrough." His grin turned wicked then as I rolled my eyes. "Also, as his future son-in-law, and because he wanted revenge for being lied to for years on end—"

"I don't like where this is going."

"—he decided it was only fair to show me your old photos."

"No!" I gasped in horror. My hands flew up to press against my temples.

"Oh yes."

"No!"

Edward chuckled. "You were adorable. I especially liked the one where you were say in a high chair, and had somehow managed to get chocolate all over your face."

"No!" I groaned into my palms, covering my face as it turned the colour of beetroot. This couldn't be happening. Was this the suffering the old woman had warned of? It had to be. Nothing could be worse than this!

Two semi-green jewels filled my vision as my hands were gently eased away from my face. Adoration was written into Edward's tender smile as his eyes held mine, causing my embarrassment to suddenly evaporate.

Without saying a word, I slowly climbed up onto his lap and wound my arms around his neck, pressing my face into his icy skin.

"What about the rest?" I whispered. I didn't have to say any more; he knew what I was referring to, which was made plain by the way his body suddenly grew rigid. His arms wrapped around me more tightly, as if he was expecting some enemy to come and try to steal me away.

"Whatever's coming for us," he murmured throatily, "if there is anything coming for us at all, which I'm not entirely convinced of yet … I'll protect you. I made a promise to Charlie, one that I don't plan on breaking. We'll get through this Bella, whatever _this _is."

He buried his face into my hair, inhaling my scent. Then, in a voice that was so low that I was barely sure I heard it, he whispered, "We have to."

**A/N: So not exactly enthralling, in my opinion, but that's probably because the whole thing was just to bring Charlie into Bella's world. As much as I would've loved to speed that part up, realistically, I don't think it would've been possible. I can't just dedicate a few pages to that and expect people to believe it.  
**

** Also, I need Chiyoko. A Seer that doesn't have the same limitations as Alice is essential for the future of this plot. She's going to end up inspiring a bit of a Cullen adventure. I'll leave it at that.**

**Twitter = twitter(dot)com/aegiggle1**

** In Japanese: Mahou = Magic; Yama = Mountain. So, basically, 'Magic Mountain'. **


	21. A Very Cullen Christmas

**A/N: I'm warning you now, this chapter is ridiculously long. You may need to read it in bits. I would've split it up, but I didn't want to spend more than one on the fluffy Christmas activities. Here's the fun and games. Enjoy it whilst it lasts, because the one after will plunge us back into darker territory. Love you guys. Thanks for your support!**

**Twitter = twitter(dot)com/aegiggle1**

**BPOV**

"_Deck the halls with boughs of holly,_

_Fa la la la la la la la la._

_Tis the season to be jolly,_

_Fa la la la la la la la la!"_

I groaned loudly against the mattress as the song went into its third repeat, stuffing my pillow over my head to block out the lyrics. They must have heard the muffled thud as the fabric hit my head, because, maddeningly, they suddenly increased their volume, practically shouting out the words, though still managing to retain the beautiful bell-like quality to their voices.

"_See the blazing Yule before us,_

_Fa la la la la la la la la!_

_Strike the harp and join the chorus,_

_Fa la la la la la la la la!"_

"Not giving in," I muttered stubbornly, squeezing my eyes tighter shut. My window slid open not a second later, the volume of their chanting increasing further still as they surrounded my bed, only a few feet away now.

"_Follow me in merry measure,_

_Fa la la la la la la la la!_

_While I tell of—"_

"ALRIIIIIIIGHT!" I screamed, launching a pillow at Emmett's head. He easily snatched it out of the air, breaking into booming laughter at my outburst.

"You're finally going to get up?" he asked.

"Finally?" I thrust a finger at the clock on my bedside table. "It's six o'clock in the morning! I hadn't planned on getting up for another hour and a half _at least_!"

Not one of the four invading Cullens looked even the slightest bit remorseful. Their determination was written into their stances as they gazed down upon me, arms folded stubbornly, legs apart.

"Well, I'm sorry," Alice chirped, taking a step forward, "but that really doesn't work for us. Edward, Carlisle, and Esme refuse to let us open presents without you, so get up and get dressed."

Jasper flashed a mischievous grin. "Or we'll carry you there in your pjs."

Alice held her tongue. I would have thought she'd have argued at the preposterous idea of me entering the Cullen mansion in my holey sweats. Wow, she must really be impatient for her gifts. I flopped back down onto the bed out of sheer irritation.

"All this for presents? Bah!"

"Bella," Alice said, a warning in her tone.

"Oh, relax, would you? I'm getting up!"

My best friend clapped her hands together, and bounced on the spot.

"OK," said Rosalie, excited now too as she pushed her husband back towards my window, "we'll see you in about half an hour then. Don't take any longer than that."

Alice and Jasper followed after the pair, hopping silently out of the room.

Before they disappeared back to their house, Emmett's deep velvety voice carried up through the air, every musical note injected with festive cheer. "MERRY CHRISTMAS, SCROOGE!"

My eyes narrowed automatically. "Humbug!"

His booming laughter echoed back, before inevitably fading away into the distance.

With a sigh, and muttering something about 'mangey, blood-sucking degenerates', I crawled my way out of bed, grabbing my toiletry bag, before heading off to the bathroom to clean myself up. My hair was a haystack, but it was nothing that a little magic couldn't fix. I quickly splashed icy water onto my face, which went some way in helping to wake me properly. Once I'd seen to the tangled chaos framing my face, I hurried back to my room to change.

Alice, predictably, had left an outfit hanging from my wardrobe door, so her silence following Jazz's pyjama threat had definitely been a bluff. I hadn't noticed the black zip-down bag before. Attached to it was a note.

_Bella, jeans and a t-shirt do not count as appropriate attire for Christmas day. Here's your outfit. You already have shoes to match. I know you'll understand._

Thinking it best to simply get the horror over with, I tugged down the zip with one swift pull. An inevitable, menacing hiss ensued as a mass of shiny red taffeta spilled out.

The dress was extravagant, the smooth strapless bodice bubbling out just above the waist, into a full skirt which cut off an inch or so from the knee. Around the waist line, there was a thick ribbon, which tied into a large bow at the back.

My pixie friend, realising that not all dresses came with a hidden pocket, had made me a belt to go under my clothes, from which dangled a tiny spherical pouch. Resigned, though far from happy, I tied the thing around my waist, slipping the Newton Ball into the bag, before changing into the outfit.

Then, of course, there was the matter of footwear. I knew precisely which shoes Alice had been referring to: the ones she'd bought me for my birthday. The ones that changed colour to synchronise with the rest of a person's clothes. The ones with the six-inch heel.

"Alice," I hissed again. Despite my indignation, however, I did as I was expected to, simply to avoid an earful later. The second the death traps were on, the material turned from black to a vivid scarlet.

My stomach dropped as I checked myself in the mirror. How was it that I felt plainer now that I was clothed in such luxurious fabric? Despite the paradox, it was the truth. It didn't seem right that the dress should have to put up with someone as unexceptional as me. If it had had a mouth like the sorting hat, it probably would've complained.

"S'pose I should make _some _effort," I muttered to myself, utterly self-conscious. It _was _Christmas Day after all. And so, completely out of character, I actually did the whole hair and cosmetics thing, though I kept it light—just a bit of mascara, a very thin layer of natural rose lipstick, and big loose curls. It didn't take long—a minute at the most—to magically make myself over.

Charlie was already dressed when I entered the kitchen, sat at the table sipping coffee. I examined his casual attire with mild jealousy. Why was_ he_ allowed to wear jeans and a t-shirt when I had to wear this? Oh, yeah, because he'd already promised to have Christmas dinner with Billy and Jake.

I bit my lip as I wondered whether I should contact my shape-shifting friend at some point during the holidays, or would that be wrong? Should I just leave him to get on with his life, even though I actually _wanted _to see him? Would he prefer it that way? Was it the right and more considerate thing to do?

A sudden cough from Charlie pulled me back from my deliberations.

"Wow, Bells" he said, taking in my dress, "you look good."

"I look like a Christmas bauble," I complained moodily, earning a confused look from my dad as I dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. "Alice dropped it off this morning. You know how she likes to make me up."

He nodded, chuckling into his mug. "Ah, yeah, I heard the singing. They're an impatient bunch, aren't they?"

"That's an understatement." Though I was still annoyed with the Cullen siblings for forcing me out of bed at an ungodly hour, I was intensely grateful that Charlie had accepted their odd quirks. He didn't even seem to care that they'd jumped into my room and had tortured me into wakefulness. Actually, he found the idea rather funny.

"It's a good job I was already up, though they only arrived a minute or so after I'd gotten out of bed."

"No doubt Alice timed it that way. She probably saw that you'd be less likely to protest if it was only me they were disturbing."

Charlie snorted. "Probably."

I rolled my eyes and went to retrieve my toast.

"You don't mind that I won't be eating dinner with you and the Cullens do you, Bells? It's just I—"

"I swear it's fine, Dad. Besides, you're still coming over later, right?" He'd promised Carlisle and Esme that he'd stop by for a drink. Whilst they'd be sipping something resembling red wine, Charlie would be sampling other less exotic things.

Once he'd reassured me that he wouldn't be bailing out, Charlie awkwardly handed me a badly wrapped gift. He'd gotten me an i-Pod.

"Sorry, I bought it before you got back. If I'd known then that you were into—"

I cut him off with a hug, throwing my arms clumsily around his neck. "I love it, Dad."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely. I'll take it over to the Cullens' place. Edward has loads of music. I bet he'll be able to transfer it for me. Thank you."

I opened the gift from Renee then. She'd co-ordinated with Charlie as usual, and had bought me a speaker system for the musical contraption. It was a large thing—chunky and elliptical, with lots of chrome buttons, a bit like a nuclear warhead. My mom had also sent me a pair of thick, fluffy socks and a box of chocolates, like she did every year.

There were Christmas cards to open too, including ones from Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. Harry, I learnt, was spending Christmas with the Weasley's. His god son, Teddy Lupin, was there too, along with a lady I'd never met before, named Andromeda Tonks.

He'd enclosed a picture of himself and the toddler. Teddy's hair was cyan and stuck up on end. He pressed his grubby little hands to my friend's cheek, who pulled silly faces in response, encouraging the boy's laughter. According to the card's message, the two had been practically inseparable since they'd arrived together at the Burrow.

_...Ron has started calling me Dad, and keeps making cracks about being replaced. It's all fun though, since he enjoys spending time with Teddy as much as I do. Mr Weasley keeps trying to pull me away. He wants me to explain mobile phones, but says the magic around the Burrow causes too much interference. Don't know if I'll ever get around to it though. The kid is just too funny, so I always get distracted. Yesterday, he learned how to turn his nose into a pig snout..._

Sure enough, the boy's nose in the photograph transformed, yet he still managed to somehow look adorable.

Once I'd said goodbye to Charlie, I went back upstairs to my room and arranged the cards on my desk, and pinned the picture to the notice board hanging above. Then, I collected the gifts I'd bought for my family of vampires, all of which I'd placed into a deceptively small stocking made of red velvet and white faux-fur trim.

After that, there was nothing further to do but disapparate from the house. I experienced the usual, nauseating pressure of the magical travelling process, before appearing seconds later on the Cullen porch.

Edward was there to open the door before I could even knock, looking like a modern day deity in mid-grey, pinstriped pants, a white shirt, and a skinny, silver tie. The massive grin he wore dropped off his face in an instant as he took in my appearance, eyes bugging wide whilst his mouth fell open ever so slightly.

"Hello," I breathed, blushing profusely under his inspection.

His eyes flew back to my face. "Merry Christmas," he replied, his grin returning.

"Merry Christmas."

He took my free hand in his and pulled me into the house. "You look divine. And you even come with a bow." He chuckled, having noticed the ribbon fastened around my waist. "Are you my Christmas gift?"

"Of course." Then, without thinking, I blurted, "I'll let you unwrap me later." My face turned scarlet instanly. Edward, on the other hand, looked just about ready to pounce. I could have sworn his irises, now golden after a recent hunting trip, darkened for a second, flashing with some intense emotion. Was it anger … or hunger?

After a moment, he settled back into a peaceful composure, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"You know, it's probably a good thing that Charlie found out I have early twentieth century morals. It's one of the reasons why he's started to like me." He swung me round then so that I was facing him, encased by his strong, marble arms. "We wouldn't want to jeopardise that now, would we?"

If he was trying to sway me into agreement, he certainly went the wrong way about it: grazing his lips lightly against mine, whilst slowly tracing circles up and down my back.

A high, feminine cough from behind put an end to our embrace. Alice stood by an eight foot Christmas tree (decorated with cream, gold and bronze). She had her arms folded tightly over her ruby surplice dress, and was tapping the sole of her red stiletto against the soft carpet.

"OK, Alice," Edward sighed, "we're ready."

"Finally!" boomed Emmett. "I thought we'd be waiting forever!"

The Cullens, being the sleepless creatures that they were, had never had to wait to open presents before. They usually did their unwrapping at midnight. I suppose, therefore, their impatience was understandable, especially now that a whole other realm of gifts had been opened up to them.

Esme apologised on behalf of her sons and daughters for the early morning disturbance. She revealed that Edward had stayed behind because he didn't want Charlie to think him irresponsible and inconsiderate. Though he'd tried to dissuade his siblings from their course of action, in the end, it had been in vain, since there was no way for one vampire to restrain four others.

I sat with Edward on the love-seat as the Cullens lunged for the sea of neatly wrapped gifts spilling out from beneath the tree, desperately trying to stop the laughter threatening to ensue as they attacked the paper like four shredders, littering the floor around them.

Carlisle and Esme seemed content to wait until after their children had finished, neither attempting to wrestle their way into the mania. Instead, they sat on the adjacent couch, Esme perched on her husbands lap, whose arms encircled her waist.

"Here," I said, after pulling the right packages from my stocking, "I got these for you both."

The pair smiled brightly and accepted the presents, thanking me as they unhurriedly tore away the gold wrapping.

Esme examined the art set with a look of pleasure, carefully running her fingers over each instrument. Carlisle's expression, on the other hand, turned from confused to absolutely ecstatic in a heartbeat, as his eyes traced the words engraved along the rim of the magical magnifying glass.

"Is this … Does this … Is this what I think it is?" he questioned excitedly.

I nodded. "It translates everything, and I'd know, because I've tried it. I looked up the Dead Sea Scrolls on Google Images; Aramaic is no problem. I even ran it over a copy of _The Lord of the Rings; _Elvish isn't a problem either. It translates codes too, so, basically, anything with meaning."

Carlisle's grin grew to twice its size, and in the ensuing seconds, he seemed torn between the need to examine the magnifying glass more closely, and the desire to communicate his appreciation. Being the perfect gentleman, however, his manners won out, and I received from him and his wife a tight, loving hug, immediately after which, the vampire doctor whizzed away to retrieve an ancient wizarding tome.

When he arrived back a minute or so later, he seated himself beside Esme and set about reading, quickly immersing himself in the text. Every now and then, he would utter words like 'fascinating', and 'incredible', meaning that my purchase had paid off.

Alice adored the petal bag and the extra accessories it contained. She held her hands out expectantly as I reached into the stocking, her smile manic as she waited for the gift she'd clearly already glimpsed. I had to cover my ears once I'd handed it over, for she expressed her joy with loud, high pitched squeals, insisting afterwards that there was hope for me yet.

Rosalie's reaction was a little more controlled than her sister's. She accepted the ring gratefully, her eyes hinting at a mixture of understanding, doubt, and hope as I told her it was a good luck charm. I deliberately refrained from mentioning its true intended purpose, because I didn't want to darken the atmosphere with talk of her inability to conceive a child.

"It's very pretty, Bella," she said sincerely, sliding the ring onto the index finger of her right hand. "And the rose is fitting. Thank you."

"You're welcome." _I hope it works for you, _I added silently.

Edward squeezed my hand in his. Though he couldn't have heard my thoughts, since I was still shielded, he clearly understood the meaning behind the gift.

Jasper almost managed to entirely conceal his disappointment after pulling the wrapping from the thick leather-bound book I'd bought him, but I caught the way his mouth turned down infinitesimally at the corners. Alice stood at his side, a subtle grin painted onto her face. I held my breath as her husband flipped past the cover, hoping the seer's confident demeanour meant I'd not messed up after all.

"Ay!" The Cullens fell still as the unfamiliar voice echoed through the room. "Who are you, soldier? Speak!"

Jasper's brow knitted together in confusion. "Jasper Hale, previously known as Jasper Whitlock."

From over his blond-haired brother's shoulder, Emmett's face appeared, eager, as he seemed to be, to investigate.

"It's a book of warlords, heroes, political leaders, and crazy despots," I explained, walking over to join the Empath.

On the two pages he was looking at, there was a portrait of a man in Classical armour. He was standing on a beach, holding a long sword in one hand, and a large, golden shield in the other. It was intricately designed, with lots of pictures carved into the surface. He also had an arrow protruding from his ankle, which kind of gave his identity away.

"You must be Achilles," I said with a smile.

The man in the portrait flushed a deep red, gritting his teeth in anger, before he bellowed, "Achilleus! It's pronounced Achilleus! Not Achilles! Achilles is the Roman version, and I happen to be Greek! Get it right!"

He pointed to the opposite page with his sword, where there were a few paragraphs of relevant information describing the life of the ancient warrior. Sure enough, the header read: _Swift-footed Achilleus, son of Peleus, more commonly referred to as Achilles._

"It says here that you were a proud and angry king with a tendency to take things too far."

Achilleus' eyes flared with rage, and I soon regretted my statement, for I was subjected to a string of verbal abuse and derogatory comments. Edward growled viciously in response, flying forwards to snap the book shut.

"Well, that's the first time anyone's ever called me _that_," I said in shock. "I guess this means you're going to have to be polite to the portraits, Jasper, or they might be a bit uncooperative."

He nodded in agreement, awestruck as he flipped the book open to Winston Churchill.

Mr Churchill was much more pleasant than the Homeric warrior, and quickly plunged his new owner into an intriguing discussion about the war, divulging scandalous details regarding certain 'Tories', as well as explaining what it felt like to govern a country during such a tragic period in history. Jasper, meanwhile, sat and listened with total fascination.

Emmett chuckled and shook his head. "Who would've thought?"

The burly vampire was more than happy with the present I'd bought him. As it turned out, when I'd paid a visit to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, my old friend had kind of been expecting me. The memory of that visit was bitter-sweet, laced with both happiness and pain. I closed my eyes as I took a moment to run over it once more.

_Stepping into the shop, I was surprised by how similar it appeared to the first time I'd visited. I don't know what I'd been expecting—for it to have fallen into disrepair, perhaps? It just seemed so strange that it could survive without Fred. It seemed so strange that George himself could survive without Fred._

_It was five minutes to closing time, and the place was practically empty, the customers filing out into the alley. Edward had left me so that I could make this visit alone. He knew how close I'd been with the twins, and this was sure to be an emotional encounter._

_As I came to the table where the Portable Swamps were sat on display, I gently ran my finger tips along one of the packages, reminiscing over the occasions when I'd terrorised Dolores Umbridge with the twins and Lee Jordan._

"_We had some good times with those, didn't we?"_

_I spun on the spot, startled at the voice. My old friend stood before me, garbed in a purple suit and a lime green tie, his hair messy and untamed, like something you'd expect to see on the head of a mad professor._

_Without answering, I launched myself forwards and threw my arms around his neck, unaware of how tightly I was squeezing until he started choking from a lack of air._

"_Sorry, George," I apologised, taking a step back._

"_S'alright, Bellsy. Always knew you had a bit of a thing for me. Looks like I've still got it." We both laughed then, though it wasn't the easy, carefree type that once would have sounded when we were together. There was an undertone of sadness to this laughter, because it sounded incomplete, its echo missing._

"_How's things?" I asked carefully, not wanting to upset him._

_He sighed and moved closer, sliding onto the table, where he sat with his hands weaved together, as if in prayer. "It's hard, Bells. Really hard. I keep thinking that … maybe if we'd been a bit more independent from each other when he was still here, that this wouldn't be so difficult now." _

_My heart was in danger of shattering as George's eyes connected with mine, mine watering suddenly because his were. _

"_I feel like I've lost half of myself."_

_I nodded. "But you'll find him again … someday."_

"_That's what Harry said. He's got Ron and Ginny believing it too."_

"_He came back from the dead, George," I reminded him. "If there was ever any proof that there's something after, it's Harry. I believe him; so does Edward. You know he reads minds. He saw the place that Harry went to during that last fight."_

_George's eyes widened a little, a spark of hope and belief igniting there. "He did?"_

"_Yes." _

_For a minute, the two of us fell into silence. Then, suddenly, George wiped the moisture from his eyes with the back of his velvet sleeve, and hopped down from the table. Slowly, a grateful smile crept its way onto his face, and for the first time in what felt like years, I glimpsed a flash of his old self. _

"_In that case, I guess I'd better stop moping and convince you to buy something. Fred'll never forgive me if I have to tell him this place went bust."_

"_No, he won't," I agreed, grinning again. "Actually, he'll probably kick your butt for it and call you a snivelling prat."_

"_Ha! Bet you're right. Wonder what he's doing."_

"_Probably terrorising one of Filch's ancestors, at least until he has the real thing to mess with. That would be Fred's definition of heaven."_

"_And Filch's definition of Hell." A dreamy expression slowly slid onto George's face, his freckly cheeks flushing with warmth at what, to him, must've been a joyous notion._

_After a few more minutes of discussing his beloved twin, and the antics he would surely be getting up to on some separate plain of existence, my friend excitedly pulled me towards the back of the shop, jabbering the entire way there about some new product he'd just developed._

"_Well, after meeting the Cullens, I realised there was a whole new market to cater for! A tiny one, granted, but since I'm not producing this new line by the hundreds, I'm sure I'll be able to make a decent return. _

"_Had to contact Sanguini—that vamp who hangs around with Eldred Worple—you know, the author of _Blood Brothers: My Life amongst the Vampires_."_

"_They were at Slughorn's party," I remembered._

"_Right. Anyways, Sanguini helped me test the products, so I was hoping you'd turn up, otherwise I wouldn't have anyone to sell them to, and it would've been a bit of a waste."_

"_Wait, wait, hold up," I protested, pulling George to a halt. "What are you going on about?"_

_He waved to the violet curtain before us, from which hung a sign labelled 'OFF LIMITS'. After throwing me the cheesiest grin imaginable, his eyebrows wiggling like hairy ginger worms, he flung back the drapes to reveal the restricted section of the store._

"_Here it is," he said, skipping forwards to pick up a scarlet box. _

_I caught it as he threw it in my direction, my mind filling with the endless possibilities as I read the label. "Blood-Drinker Devilry Pack?"_

"_Trick candy designed specifically for vampires," George nodded, clearly proud with his latest achievement. "There's one type in there that will take away their strength for a couple of hours."_

"_How?" I gawked incredulously._

"_Well, the magic doesn't actually affect their muscles. It just tells their brains to restrict the amount they use them. It's more a trick of the mind, similar to the sweet that completely removes their sense of balance." _

_He then went on to tell me about each product in the jokes kit. According to George, there was one sweet that prevented any vampire who ate it from speaking normally, forcing them to sing instead. There were fear sweets too—ones that provoked extreme paranoia. One of the pieces sent the eater into a lifelike daydream, exactly like the kind that would result from using a Weasley Patented Daydream Charm._

"_Now, vampires are smart, and you can't just expect them to eat one of these of their own free will," George explained, "so whoever you give it to, make sure to tell them they'll probably have to force it into their victim's mouth. Once that's done though, the candy melts instantly into really sweet blood. It will be their first instinct to swallow."_

_After thanking my friend and paying for the Blood-Drinker Devilry Pack, I locked him in a fierce hug._

"_Thanks, Bells," he murmured. "I'm really glad you came."_

"_Me too," I whispered._

_Eventually, we released one another. I handed George a wrapped parcel filled with magic sweets. He, in return, gave me a free portable swamp (for old time's sake), along with a headless hat, insisting, when I protested, that he was feeling generous, and that if I wanted to repay him, all I had to do was use the hat to spook any enemy Muggles living in my area._

_I agreed and hugged him one last time, before departing the shop._

I sighed as I remembered that meeting. Truly, it seemed so wrong seeing one twin without the other, but at least George was finally beginning to believe that it was more a case of 'see you later' than 'goodbye forever'. I was sure he'd be strong enough to get through the next hundred years or so, as long as he had that hope to cling to.

Emmett grinned evilly as he examined the jokes kit, his eyes darting from one vampire to another.

"There's no way you're getting me with that, Em," Edward warned, "so don't even bother trying."

"Not a chance, bro. You're going down!"

The three Cullen brothers disputed the matter further, whilst I opened my presents. I received everything from a whole new wardrobe of clothing, courtesy of Alice, to my very own set of Quidditch balls, all of which came nicely packaged in an oak case.

After the vampires had had their turn exchanging gifts, Carlisle invited Talto into the house. He brought with him, held in his beak, a small sprig of purple wildflowers, which he dropped into my lap upon landing.

"Aw, Tal," I said, touched, "they're lovely! Thank you."

He nibbled my ear affectionately, before taking off once more. I had to laugh—the womaniser had a tiny bouquet for each female, and proceeded to make the deliveries, after which, he landed on Rosalie's thigh, and spread his wings, whilst simultaneously puffing out his breast, thereby fully displaying of his plumage. His head turned from the blonde to her sister, then to Esme, before, finally, back to me, his big round eyes clearly intending to communicate the words 'come hither'.

Emmett cracked out laughing. "Looks like we've got some competition, men."

The other male vampires chuckled lowly, still smiling.

I extended my arm and shook my head, though, in all honesty, I was far from shocked. "Come here, Cassanova." Talto did as I requested and fluttered through the air, landing gracefully on my upheld limb. "You're such a lady killer, you know that? When are you going to stop philandering and settle down? Haven't you met any lady owls that have caught your fancy yet?"

The owl released a regretful hoot and shook his head.

"I wouldn't worry, Talto," Edward said. "All good things come to those who wait. I should know."

He winked at me and flashed his crooked smile, causing my heart to skip a beat.

"He's right," Esme cooed at the bird. "Besides, who could resist such a handsome owl like you?"

Her words earned her a hoot of appreciation and a nibble to her ear. I rolled my eyes; my owl was a smooth operator, and would be until the end. When he finally did decide to make a nest for himself, he'd problem end up building a crib big enough for a harem—a feathery harem!

For Christmas, the Cullens and I gave Talto a bag each of owl treats, much to his delight. He flew out of the mansion with Emmett, Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie, as they zoomed off on their new Firebolts, all of which had been purchased for them by their parents. I quickly offered my Quaffle before they left. A bit of Quidditch would surely keep them occupied for an hour or so.

Now alone, Edward wove his fingers through mine and led me upstairs, into his room. I sat cross-legged on the bed as he flashed away to his wardrobe, where he told me he'd stored my gift. When he returned, he held a rather large box wrapped in silver paper.

"W-what is it?" I asked nervously.

He sat down across from me, and placed the package between us. "Open it and find out."

With trembling hands, I ripped away the wrapping, unveiling in the process a square wooden box, decorated with the image of an oriental dragon. My chest tightened as I undid the clasps holding it shut, so that I could hardly breathe when I finally lifted the lid.

I gasped aloud at the contents. "A pensieve? You …"

I wasn't sure why, but the sight of the round silver bowl put a lump in my throat and brought moisture to my eyes.

"I know how much you don't want to forget your human memories," Edward murmured, his voice low and deep. "If we made copies of all the ones you want to keep before I change you, you won't have to."

My tears spilled over the edges at his words, and the need to hold him suddenly became too overwhelming and unbearable to ignore. I urgently pushed myself forwards, and was struck by a surge of relief as my arms shot around his neck, pulling his face to mine. Our kiss was neither entirely sweet, nor entirely passionate; it was a tangled mixture of the two, fierce and hungry one minute, then slow and tender the next.

"Thank you," I murmured against his icy skin.

He smiled, caressing my cheek with his hand. "Do you like it?"

"I love it. My memories, especially the ones involving you, are the most precious things I own. Now I get to keep them."

"I'm glad," Edward said, his radiant face suddenly jubilant. "Do you want to test it out?"

I laughed at his enthusiasm and nodded, but stopped him as he made to remove the pensieve from its velvet lined box. "First, I have something to give you too."

He bit his lip nervously. The sight did strange things to my insides, warmth flickering like an ember in my belly.

"You didn't spend a lot did you?"

"You sound like me," I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, unlike you, for the past century, I've had a psychic on hand to help me play the stock markets."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is it's Christmas—the season for giving." Reaching into the stocking, I pulled out the last present, and passed it to my vampire fiancé.

He pulled me down so that I was lying with him against the comforter, my head resting on his shoulder. After removing the wrapping from the casing, he opened the box and pulled out the wristband, removing with it the five accompanying mirrors.

The band itself was about two and a half inches wide and made from black leather. The buckle was made from platinum, thus matching the square relief fixed onto the band. At first sight, anyone would assume the relief to be merely for decorative purposes. Engraved into the shiny metal was the outline of the all-seeing eye—the same insignia found on the US dollar. On two of its sides, however, similar to the little knobs you'd find on a wind up watch, were two tiny, circular dials, both embedded with a diamond, indicating a hidden purpose.

My fingers found the catch on the edge of the square centrepiece, and I pulled it open to reveal an inside mirror.

"It's a spying band," I stated, my voice seeming to echo. "You place the mirrors anywhere in the world that you want to keep an eye on, and then you twist the dial—this one on the right—to switch between views."

Throughout my explanation, Edward's expression gradually became more and more amused, though I discerned an undercurrent of some deeper emotion.

"So let's say I wanted to keep an eye on a certain someone whilst I was away," he hinted, "to make sure they were safe."

I grinned, glad that he was getting it. "Well, in that case, you could always place one of your mirrors on this someone's bedside table, or somewhere else he or she would be likely to spend their time."

"And you can hear sounds through these mirrors?" he guessed.

I nodded. "The dial on the left is for volume. Me and Charlie tried it out. Charlie stood in the garden singing Springsteen songs into one of the mirrors, and I stood in the living room with the wristband and the TV at full volume, turning the left dial until I couldn't hear the baseball commentary any more."

Edward's crooked grin was dazzling as he wrapped the band around his wrist.

"I know you worry," I murmured. My stomach felt as if it had become the home to dozens of butterflies. The spying band itself had cost me a pretty penny, so I desperately hoped that Edward would like it.

"Yes, I do," he admitted softly, kissing my nose. "When we're apart, no matter what I'm doing, there's always some section of my brain wondering whether or not you're safe." He flashed the platinum relief at me then and grinned. "You have no idea what this will do for my peace of mind. I only wish I'd known about spying bands earlier. I could've saved myself a lot of stress.

"Thank you," he purred silkily, his lips only and inch from mine now, "truly … for everything."

"Y-you're … you're welcome," I breathed, almost too dazzled to respond. Just as I was about to close the tiny distance separating us, something flat and cold slid into my palm. I looked down to see one of the square mirrors resting in my hand.

"That one's for when you go out," Edward smirked. "Keep it in your purse or something. Then, no matter where you go, I'll know you're safe."

"Alright," I agreed, "but you do know you can put these mirrors in other places, right? Anywhere in the world you want to keep watch over."

"I know, but honestly, Bella, I'd rather just look at you." And before I could comment, his lips silenced mine, and, well … that was that.

* * *

**EPOV**

"What memory is this?" I asked, barely able to contain my excitement as a new world formed around us. So far, Bella had shown me the visit from McGonagall that had opened her eyes to the magical world, her first trip to Diagon Alley, and the first time she'd played against Slytherin. It was fascinating to be able to watch her development, so much so that I felt slightly guilty—I was taking just as much pleasure from the pensieve as she was.

"Wait and see," she smirked mischievously, giggling shortly afterwards.

We were standing in a long, dark corridor, the familiar architecture making the place instantly recognisable. Moonlight shining through the panels of the large arched windows provided the only illumination, casting an eerie, silver glow throughout the Hogwarts passage.

"Coast's clear," someone whispered behind us.

I turned to see four figures, all clothed from head to toe in black. Balaclavas concealed their faces, so that their eyes were the only visible part of their bodies. I found Bella's beautiful chocolate ones immediately. The body shape of her accomplices told me that she was the only female amongst them, meaning that the others were probably Lee Jordan and the twins, since they had been her closest friends at one time.

They ran from one end of the corridor to the other, merging with the shadows, sometimes almost impossible to see in their black attire. Experiencing darkness again through a human memory felt incredibly strange after so many years of being a vampire. It frustrated me completely that I couldn't make out all the details.

"Don't let it spill," a male voice hissed, either Fred's or George's.

_Don't let what spill? _I strained my eyes for clearer vision.

"Is that a cauldron?" I asked. Voracious intrigue blazed through my mind as I made out a small rounded shape, the sight coupled with the sound of sloshing liquid.

"Might be," Bella answered enigmatically. She must have sensed the irritation her unforthcoming attitude inspired, because a furtive smirk flashed across her face. My eyes narrowed with suspicion, but I didn't press the issue, for I would surely receive my answers as the promising and potentially humorous memory neared its conclusion.

The infamous group ahead plunged deeper into the castle, darting stealthily this way and that, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping figures in the portraits, until they came to a tapestry concealing a hidden staircase. The softer, more feminine figure of the four pulled it back without hesitation.

I inhaled sharply as my eyes were met with a looming shadow, one barring the way of my lovable miscreant. Upon distinguishing the orange bow-tie and bell covered hat, however, the coil in my stomach relaxed.

"Hi, Peeves."

The poltergeist spun in mid-air, greeting the girl with a whispered song. _"Izzy-Bell, wish you well, give that ugly bat some hell!"_

"Thanks," the witch replied. "Are you ready to help us out?"

With a series of energetic nods, Peeves pledged his allegiance.

"You planned this rendezvous," I guessed as Peeves dove away, leading the group down from the fourth floor.

"Of course," Bella confirmed, with a tone that suggested she found my uncertainty mildly offensive.

My eyes rolled automatically and I swept back the tapestry, holding it aside as I waited for her to pass. She'd accepted my unrelenting chivalrous habits long ago, and moved without question.

After exiting the secret staircase, the poltergeist silently guided us down a series of twisting passages, occasionally zooming ahead to sneak a peak around each corner, thereby ensuring that the students wouldn't encounter any wandering teachers. Finally, after three minutes of safe and covert navigation, he pulled up in front of an office door, the one marking the home of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

One twin took up a post at the far end of the corridor; Lee was already manning the other.

Bella grinned like a lunatic as her memory self extracted her wand from her pocket, and conjured a length of thick, yellow rope. Whilst the second twin supported the cauldron, she silently tied one end to its handle, and fastened the other to the door knob, before pointing her weapon at the cauldron itself and charming it into the air. It floated up until it rested directly over the doorway, ready to tip with the slightest pull.

The girl made hand gestures to the mystery twin, calling him back, whilst her partner conjured a set of cymbals for the spectral, avid mischief-maker.

Peeves took them eagerly, and waited until his friends had raced around the corner at the end of the corridor, where Lee was on guard. Their eyes peaked out from the blackness as they gave the poltergeist the thumbs up.

_SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!_

"_We want old Umbridge out!_

_Of that we have no doubt._

_The stinking toad_

_Should hit the road,_

_And save herself a clout!_

_We want old Umbridge out …"_

And so it went on … over and over again. Peeves didn't concern himself with keeping the cymbals' clashes in time with the song. The effect was a thunderous cacophony, one which quickly triggered the high protests of its intended target.

"PEEVES!" she shrieked from inside the office. "SHUT UP!"

The poltergeist ignored her and continued his discordant chanting, wearing a gleeful expression all the while.

Umbridge's plump silhouette appeared as she violently wrenched the door open, and stepped into the path of the spill. "I SAID—"

Her enraged orders morphed into shrill screams of horror as the pink potion spilled over her head and nightdress, the racket echoing through the halls like a siren. Peeves, meanwhile, discarded his brass instruments, and broke out into ecstatic applause, whilst the bunch at the end of the corridor laughed into their hands.

"Bingo!" whispered Lee.

Fury quickly overwhelmed the woman, her hands balling into fists and her lips curling back over her teeth. "YOU WRETCHED, DISPICABLE CREATURE!" she seethed. "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

Bella sighed beside me, staring on at the scene with dreamy eyes. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"What did you tip on her?"

There was a slight pause, in which time she continued to reminisce, thoroughly dazed. She quickly snapped out of it though, and turned her head into my chest, using my hard skin to muffle her giggles.

"Something colourful," she replied. Seeing my confusion, she then gestured to the florescent pink puddle pooled on the floor, and added, "Umbridge is a big fan of pink; that's magic dye. We were doing the old hag a favour."

Our eyes flicked to the memory Bella and her three accomplices then, whose faces suddenly disappeared out of view.

"Let's go," I urged, sweeping my beautiful and ingenious fiancée onto my back. We surged back through the second floor maze, shooting after the four Gryffindors as they travelled back up the concealed staircase.

The boys raced in front, younger Bella struggling to keep up. I kept pace with her, concerned for her welfare, though I still realised, of course, that there'd be nothing I'd be able do to help her should she encounter trouble. This _was _a memory after all.

The door leading out onto the Grand Staircase came into view as the group rounded the next corner. Bella was still struggling at the back and, predictably, after making it a third of the way down the hall, she tripped over her own feet, sending herself crashing head first to the floor. A squeak automatically escaped her lips as she collided with the solid ground, causing the boys, who were now fifteen metres in front, having failed to notice earlier the lead they'd gained, to halt and turn immediately.

One second later, Argus Filch came tearing out from the fourth floor bathroom, into the space separating Bella from the others. His eyes instantly zeroed in on the most vulnerable individual, lighting up like two bulbs on a Christmas tree, whilst his mouth pulled back into a triumphant sneer.

"I got you now, I have! You'll have holes in your hands by the time you've finished writing them lines!"

"Bella?" I probed, afraid now.

"Ssh," she soothed, kissing my cheek from behind. "Trust me."

And that's all she had to say to relax me completely.

The memory girl arranged herself into a cat-like crouch, snatching her wand back out from her pocket, her eyes narrowing with determination as she gazed upon her enemy. Filch seemed to sense what was about to happen, for his arms flew out on either side of him in his attempt to bar the way, legs spread as widely as possible.

A battle cry ripped the air as the witch pushed off from the ground, injecting every morsel of strength into her legs as they propelled her towards the beady eyed caretaker, whose pleasure melted suddenly into outright fear.

With only three metres separating her from a disastrous collision, Bella pointed her wand at the floor and cried, _"Glacio!"_

Twisting jets of sparkling white erupted from the tip, spilling across the floor before her to create a thin runway. I stared on proudly as the witch threw herself down onto the icy path, the cold line continuing to form as she slid beneath Filch's legs.

The boys cheered and hooted at the spectacle. They even had to run to catch up with her as she whizzed past, carried all the way to the end of the corridor by her strong momentum.

"Nice one, B!" called Lee, his voice only just audible over Filch's wild and incoherent barking.

Before the witch and wizards flitted out onto the Grand Staircase, one twin flung something back over his shoulder, aiming a spell at it as it spiralled through the air. The next few seconds unfolded almost lethargically, the energy seeming to have been sapped from time. The Weasley stamped box exploded as it hit the ground, projecting a wave of putrid green slime, mounds of moss, wiry grass, and creeping colourful weeds back through the passage.

The unfortunate caretaker got caught up in the middle of it all, no longer a threat as he was swallowed by the portable swamp.

"Terrific! Superb! Incredible!" I cheered a minute later, bounding through the portrait hole. I couldn't find enough praise to wrap my tongue around. I was too jazzed.

My wonder escalated as the laughing willowy girl before me pulled the black balaclava from her head, and shook out a fountain of uncoiling mahogany hair, her smiling face flushed from exertion.

A peaceful sigh escaped my lips as I took in the younger Bella. She wasn't quite 'woman' yet, her features still possessing that girlish youth, but that didn't make her any less mine.

"Mission accomplished!" the twins proclaimed together. After unveiling their faces, they gave one another a hi-five.

"God," Lee breathed in between cackles, "I can't wait to see that old bat in the morning!"

"Ditto," giggled Bella. "O, what fun we'll have!"

The present Bella hopped down off my back as Gryffindor common room faded around us, a new scene materialising instead. Now Bella sat amongst her peers in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, awaiting the arrival of the odious gargoyle who had spent so long terrorising the school.

A door at the back of the classroom flung open with a bang, and there stood Umbridge. I couldn't help doubling over at the sight of her.

She was garbed in what, according to Bella, was her typical attire: pink heels, a pink linen dress, and a pink tweed poncho. What made the image so satisfying was that the squat witch looked like she belonged to some sub-species of Umpa Lumpa, her skin florescent pink rather than orange … just like her curly hair, which stuck up in tufts, completely untamed, as if she'd just been dragged through a hedge.

Her lips were pinched tight as she marched through the aisle of desks, head held high in her efforts to ignore the muffled laughter, muted guffaws, and quiet sneering. Memory-Bella sat with her mouth pressed to her fists, her frame trembling as she tried to prevent her joy from bursting through the seams.

"Mr. Finnigan," Umbridge squawked unexpectedly, turning on her heels as she reached the front of the class, "would you please … explain to me … WHY YOU ARE CRYING?"

"I'm s—I'm s-s-s—so sorry, Professor," Seamus squeaked breathlessly, wiping tears from either cheek. "I ju—I just got something in my eye…"—even higher-pitched now—"and it really hurts."

The sound of the soprano dialogue triggered an unstoppable chain reaction; like a dam giving way under immense pressures, the control of the students came crashing down all at once, collapsing into uncontrollable howls of laughter and cackling pandemonium.

"ENOUGH!" shrieked Umbridge, her expression irate.

How satisfying it was to see this woman, the one responsible for so much misery, become the embodiment of fury and mortification. Her cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment, her nostrils flared widely like a bull's, and she stamped her foot loudly against the wooden floor. "SILENCE! ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH!"

Even as the memory disintegrated around us, the sound of those cackles still rang in my ears.

Bella and I rocketed upwards together, shooting out of the Chinese pensieve and onto the plush, golden carpet. She stumbled at first, the shift into reality throwing her equilibrium. My hands shot out automatically, but she regained her balance before my assistance was necessary.

"Newton Ball," she said, noticing my surprise.

"Oh, right. That would explain it."

She rolled her eyes as she took a step closer. A delicious tingle rolled up my spine when she lightly brushed my back with her fingertips, provoking an involuntary shudder. It never ceased to amaze me that Bella had chosen _me_;nor would my wonder at being able to be so close to her without killing her ever diminish.

I pulled her closer, eager to enjoy the miracle, and was so consumed by the image of her face that I barely noticed the piercing shriek of horror interrupting the moment.

Something hard crashed into my side all of a sudden, the force so colossal that it sent me flying. My eyes took in every detail as I torpedoed through the air, but that didn't help me make any more sense of the scene. As I crashed through the glass wall, the whole thing shattering around me with the impact, the only thing I could wonder was why Alice's face was so overwhelmed with horror as she clutched my confused and terrified fiancée.

Had I been about to hurt her? That couldn't be right! I wouldn't …

Instinctively, I threw myself into every mind in the vicinity, the air still whistling around me as I plummeted down towards the river; so, therefore, before I plunged into the rushing current, my thoughts had progressed from mystified and frightened to flat-out irate, all in the space of what would have been a heartbeat.

My legs pushed of the riverbed with more force than that of a cement truck doing sixty, sending walls of water rolling onto both banks as I shot into the air.

"EMMETT!" I roared, "YOU ARE SO DEAD!"

Laughter boomed from inside the house. My sniggering brother marched out shortly afterwards, flanked by a grinning Rosalie.

"Aw, Edward. You're all wet."

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HER!" I spat. "DID THAT EVEN CROSS YOUR IDIOTIC MIND?"

The only thing my anger did was to serve in fuelling my brother's amusement. He doubled over and barked out another round of laughter. "You can't blame me for that, bro. Alice tackled you; not me. She's the one with the fear."

My anger was too great to contain now; it needed an outlet. I lunged forwards with such speed that Emmett didn't have time to react. His eyes bulged as my clenched fist collided with his jaw, and, suddenly, he was the one that was being sent flying.

_Bit of an over-reaction, Edward, _Rosalie thought, rolling her eyes.

An over-reaction? I bet she wouldn't have been saying that if _she'd _had a human mate that had been charged by a mad, fear-stricken vampire. I ignored her anyway, and marched towards the house, glass crunching underfoot as I neared.

From the outside, I could see that half of the glass wall had been completely ruined, unable to withstand the disastrous force of the blow. Now wasn't the time to concern myself with that though. What worried me more was the fact that Alice had snatched Bella, who had absolutely no idea what was going on, from my room, and was now proceeding to stuff her into a clothes bag in her closet.

_"What the hell are you—"_

_ "Ssh, Bella!" Alice hushed in terrified whispers, clamping a hand over the girl's mouth. "You have to be quiet! We can't let him find you!"_

In her irrational state, she obviously overlooked the fact that the concealment she'd provided wouldn't stop me from finding Bella, even if I hadn't been a mind-reader. To her though, it's main purpose was to keep Bella from_ me. _I'd be easier to keep at bay if she didn't have to constantly worry about containing her captive.

Bella's eyes bulged as my sister pressed tape over her lips, sealing them shut. Alice then zipped up the clothes bag, ignoring the thrashing body inside.

I hissed, completely enraged as I whizzed through the living room. Carlisle and Esme were stood at the bottom of the staircase, staring up at Jasper with baffled expressions as he clutched the banister, his arms snaking around it, whilst his legs dangled limply behind him. In an attempt to stand up straight, he finally let go, but fell over almost immediately, and ended up rolling back down to the very bottom, so that he was splayed out at Carlisle and Esme's feet.

Their eyes snapped up to meet me, widening even more so as they took in my dripping clothes.

_We were in the kitchen, _Esme told me, _preparing dinner for Bella, and then—_

I interrupted her thoughts in my haste. "Emmett decided to use the jokes kit. It was a snap decision. Alice didn't have time to react. He forced the paranoia sweet on her, and then Rose helped him to get Jasper with the balance stealing one."

"And when it finally wears off," my blonde-haired brother broke in, his voice loaded with frustration, "you and I are going to make them sorry, Edward! I'm sure Alice will only be too happy to help."

"Definitely," I growled, "but, right now, I need to get her away from Bella."

Jasper nodded, trying to sit up. "Go easy on her though. This isn't her fault." Once I'd agreed, he looked to our parents, and said, "Would you mind carrying me over to the couch, please? I'll never get there on my own."

They acquiesced.

Just before I left, I saw Jasper reaching for the book Bella had bought him for Christmas. He quickly began flipping through the pages, searching for Hitler. When Carlisle asked him what he was doing, he explained that he needed to vent some anger. It was a relief that Bella didn't have vampire hearing; I wouldn't want her to have to listen to the obscene profanities that followed.

Alice was waiting for me as I turned off the staircase, standing ten metres away in the very middle of the corridor. Her body was leaning forwards ever so slightly, as if she were preparing for combat. Part of my brain swelled with affection for my little sister. It was endearing to see how deeply she cared for Bella, and the lengths she would go to to protect her.

"I'm not going to hurt her," I said gently, edging forwards.

"Stay back!" she warned.

My palms flew up in my efforts to reassure her. "It's OK, Alice, I promise."

"No it isn't, Edward. She's a human; you're a vampire. You'll kill her. You want her blood! I won't let you!"

I took another careful step forward. "Alice, I know you mean well, but what you're feeling right now—this fear—it isn't real. It's an effect of the candy."

I made to take another step, but Alice crouched defensively, her mouth ripping into a ferocious snarl.

"Ok, ok. Alright, I'm not coming any closer. Just calm down."

_Not until you turn the hell around!_

My brain flew over a hundred different tactics in those next few seconds, as I considered how best to deal with my insane leprechaun sister. Clearly, nothing was going to eradicate Alice's paranoia—the magic was just going to have to run its course—but there was no way I was planning on allowing Bella to spend the next few hours locked in a clothes bag. Perhaps, then, all I needed to do was to divert my sister's fear in another direction.

Somehow, I managed to suppress a grin as I next addressed the psychic vampire.

"Alice," I whispered, so low now that only she would be able to hear me, "Emmett and Rosalie are planning on stealing your new clothes."

She straightened up immediately, her expression horrified.

"They're going to come at you together, when you're guard is down."

"What? Why would they do that?" she whispered back. "Not my clothes!"

"They're trying to entertain themselves, and they think the best way to do this is by replacing all your designer outfits with … sweat pants—"

Alice's hands shot up over her mouth. She squeaked against her palms, her chest rising and falling like a human's would after a marathon.

"—and wife-beaters."

"No!" she screamed. "What do I do, Edward? What do I do?"

I smiled as she flitted to my side, grabbing desperately at my wet shirt. "Well, in this case, the best defence is a good offence. Disable them separately, whilst they're unsuspecting."

A deep satisfaction bubbled in my gut as I proceeded to suggest she attack Emmett first, since he was clearly the leader in this operation.

Now fully distracted, Alice nodded, and flew stealthily away, nothing but an inky blur. I wasted no time, whooshing forth into my sister's room, flinging back the doors to her walk-in wardrobe.

"Mmm! Hmm-m-hm!"

I pulled the zipper on the thrashing bag so forcefully that it broke off in my hands upon reaching the bottom. Wide chocolate eyes stared out at me from inside, and I quickly lifted out the frightened girl, tearing away the ropes the bound her hands and feet.

_Thanks, _she told me mentally. _Now explain what in the name of Merlin's butthole just happened!_

Her hands fumbled at the tape over her mouth, as she deliberated whether to pull it off swiftly, or to peel it away slowly.

"The fast way is usually the best, or so I've heard."

She closed her eyes and nodded. _Go for it._

I winced at the idea of causing her pain, but did as she requested. Her eyes clenched tighter as I freed her mouth, so I quickly pressed my lips over hers, hoping to soothe the sting with my cold temperature. She gave into it immediately, her fingers clutching at my clothes in an entirely different manner to my sister's earlier. I took my attempts at mind control a step further as I exhaled onto her face. She moaned lightly upon inhaling my scent.

When I finally pulled back, I'd almost entirely forgotten the purpose of the exercise, just as dazzled as my counterpart.

"That was … that was …"

A high bellow suddenly interrupted her reverie. After a few seconds, it dwindled into strangled, agonised sobbing.

Bella shot to her feet in shock, but I fell back against the floor, howling with laughter at the images flashing through my mind, for somewhere outside, just beyond the initial line of trees across the river, my behemoth brother was scrunched into the foetal position on the forest floor. It took a lot to hurt one of our kind below the belt—a supercar at full speed might not have been able to generate enough power for that—but a crazed vampire fashionista fearing for her beloved wardrobe was, apparently, enough to do the trick.

Alice's eyes were wary as they took in the cuisine positioned on the table before Bella.

For once, the dining room was being used for its intended purpose. My adoptive parents had gone to great lengths to ensure that their human almost-daughter received the full Christmas special, and had decorated the room with boughs of holly, twinkling lights, and white candles covered with iridescent glitter. In addition, they'd prepared dozens of different types of food, all of which were arranged on silver platters.

The girl had gazed upon the sight with a look of outright fear, knowing there was no way that one human alone would be able to devour it all. Esme, naturally, had assured her that she wasn't expected to clear the table, and that they'd be happy to wrap up the left-overs, so that she and her father would have something for later, in case they got hungry.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Alice asked, not quite managing to hide her panic. Although the magic of the trick candy was beginning to wear off, there was still evidently a little of it left in her system, because she was eyeing the carrot speared on Bella's fork like it was a dubious piece of blowfish.

"For heaven's sake, it's not been dipped in cyanide," I quipped.

Bella chuckled at her best friend, and lifted the fork to her lips. Her lips closed around empty air though, as my sister swiped the cutlery from her grasp, and plunged the food into her own mouth.

I would've been exasperated with Alice's interference, had her attempt at eating a carrot not been such an amusing sight in the first place. Her hands flapped furiously, fanning her face as she chewed, eyes clenched into slits. Pity was beyond me, however, since the torture was unnecessary and self-inflicted.

"Ack!" she spat, after finally swallowing the offending orange vegetable. "That was disgusting!"

Bella rolled her eyes. "That's because you're a vampire, you ninny! Why _did _you eat it anyway?"

"To test whether or not it was safe!" Alice shook her head, and reached for the plate. "I'm sorry, Bella, but there's no way I can let you eat that."

"But I'm hungry!"

"It tastes awful."

"Only to you!"

"It might be poisonous."

Bella snorted. "Who here would want to poison me?"

"No one," Alice replied, "but before today, Carlisle and Esme hadn't cooked in a long, long time. They might have done it unintentionally."

"Alice," I sighed, "the food is fine."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd tried it." She aggressively stabbed the fork at another carrot. I pressed my mouth into a hard line as she leaned over the table to thrust it in front of my face. "Look at it, Edward. Really look at it, and then tell me that it's edible!"

"It's edible."

"Ha!" she barked. "Ha! It's practically luminescent! Possibly even radioactive. And orange, damn it. Orange! Did you know that, originally, these little suckers were purple or white? The only reason why orange ones are so common now is because a bunch of patriotic Dutch farmers produced them to match their political colours."

"I was aware of that, yes."

She waved the carrot closer to my face, and growled. "This thing right here, Edward—this repulsive, little obscenity—is a mutant freak! A genetically modified legume imposter! Nothing more than an herbaceous fraud!

"Are you going to subject your girlfriend to this, Edward? It's not natural! How would _you _feel if Bella was kidnapped by men in lab coats and transformed into a beautified, ga-ga Barbie, just so she'd fit in with the rest of society's peroxide clones?"

My sister, so entirely consumed by her argument, which was veering of at a complete tangent from her original point, failed to notice the effect her words were having upon Bella, myself, and the rest of the family.

In the adjacent room, Jasper had his face planted against a pillow, the couch trembling beneath his shaking body. Rosalie, Esme, and Carlisle were in similar situations, all pressing their hands to their mouths to muffle their laughter. Even Emmett, who was still recovering upstairs from Alice's ball-busting attack, had taken a break from abusing Stalin—the history book was fast becoming the family's favourite item for stress relief—and was now enjoying the performance.

"Well, Edward?"

"I, er—I think we should let Bella destroy the carrot," I rationalised in between streams of laughter, before snatching the fork from the crazy vampire. "You know, make the world a better place and all that?"

Alice scowled at me and stamped her foot, before stomping angrily from the room.

_Have it your way, _she called back silently,_ but when Bella gets food poisoning, don't come crying to me!_

Food poisoning from a carrot … well that was one I hadn't heard before.

After the tears of joy had stopped their flow, and Bella was finally able to look at her food without breaking into hysterics, she got to work on eating her dinner, complimenting my parents on their culinary skills.

She had to wait a full hour before she could manage dessert. I had a feeling she might have refused it, had Esme not been wearing such a proud expression upon unveiling a holly-topped plum pudding, dripping with brandy butter.

"Uuuugh," Bella moaned, five minutes after finishing, rubbing her stomach.

_See! Told you you'd kill her._

I rolled my eyes at Alice's mental accusations, simultaneously smiling at the girl seated next to me.

"I'm not going to be able to eat for a week," she said.

_Loss of appetite is a sign of food poisoning._

How could someone so small be so annoying? I inhaled a deep, calming breath, and told myself that this was all an effect of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was not Alice's fault that she was doubly irritating today; it was Emmett's. Luckily, I had found the perfect remedy to ease my exasperation.

All it took was a little visualisation—the moment when my tiny, enraged sister had lunged down from the snowy canopy at my unsuspecting brother, looking every bit the lunatic she currently was: lips curled back over her teeth, fingers tensed like harpy claws, and eyes as wide as saucers, revealing the madness within.

Emmett had laughed initially, unprepared for what was about to happen. That, of course, had all changed when Alice had aimed a fierce kick to his manhood.

As vampires, our physicality was such that we could withstand the very greatest of pressures, whilst also being able to fully enjoy the lightest of touches. Though pain was something that rarely affected us, when we did experience it, like pleasure, we could appreciate it a hundred times more sensitively than any human.

So when that gargantuan force, courtesy of Alice, had been aimed directly between my brother's legs, the resulting agony and sickness had surged through every cell of his immortal body, and he'd spent the next five minutes clamped up on the floor, whimpering to himself. Carlisle collected him not long after, and had laid him down on the bed he and Rosalie shared, where he'd stayed for the next hour.

I would have sympathised, had he not been responsible for almost destroying the love of my existence.

By the time three o'clock rolled around, Jasper had completely regained his balance, and Alice was free of the fear. Despite the physical torture she'd inflicted upon our brother earlier, she refused to hold back, and gave him a livid rebuke. Naturally, still fearing for his manhood, which he had taken to shielding with his hands, he didn't argue.

I almost laughed at how normal—normal despite the supernatural elements—this Christmas was turning out to be. In my head, I compiled a checklist, ticking off what could be classed as traditional festive activities: the children waking sleeping family members at an inappropriate hour, in order to lessen the wait for the gift exchange; the serving of Christmas dinner and all the trimmings; turbulence between the gathered family members; pulling crackers; a festive film, in this case, an old version of Dickens' _A Christmas Carol—_the Muppets' adaptation was on on a different channel, but Bella had no patience for it, for which I was grateful. The only thing that was really missing from the list was to drink and be merry, which would surely happen sooner or later, especially since Charlie was due.

Whilst my parents and siblings cracked open a bottle of dragon's blood—Chinese Fireball—I refrained from drinking.

I was used to resisting Bella's scent, and whilst it would always be difficult, I knew that my teeth would never puncture her soft, translucent skin. The memory of what it felt like to lose her was still more painful than the venom burn. For that reason, taking a break from the magical fluid made sense, because whilst my focus was fixed on controlling my craving for Bella's blood, I didn't have to worry so much about other desires. The fire in my throat, strangely enough, was actually rather sobering.

Bella and I played with the wizarding chess set that I'd won out of one of the crackers whilst we waited for her father to arrive. The crackers also contained large colourful bonnets, and we had both donned one for the match. Bella's was a fruit hat, decorated with grapes, bananas, oranges, and so on; mine was a court jester's, green and yellow, with little bells dangling from each branch. The two of us looked ridiculous, hence the reason why Alice felt the need to capture the moment on film.

At five to six, Charlie knocked on the door. Carlisle greeted him inside, and he hadn't even sat down before Alice was handing him a glass of fire whiskey.

"Uh, thanks," he said uncertainly. After sniffing at the golden liquid, however, he visibly relaxed, realising that he appreciated its warm bouquet.

_Mm, this stuff is good … like that sake. Nice. _Bravery swept through him as his cheeks flushed red. _Now, all I have to do is tell Bella and the Cullens that Billy and Jake are onto them ... _

"Guys, Billy and Jacob Black are onto you."

Unlike Bella, who tensed immediately, I felt no reason to panic. If the dog had told Charlie that my family and I were vampires, I would already have known about it. I gave Bella's back a gently rub in an attempt to ease her worry. Her eyes flicked to mine, and I smiled at her reassuringly, after which she sighed in relief.

"What gave you that impression, Dad?"

Charlie bit his lip thoughtfully and rubbed his jaw. "Just things they said," he told us. "Jake wanted to know if I'd noticed anything … different about you since you'd come back. I didn't think anything of it at first, but he kept pressing the issue, to the point where Billy started shooting him daggers."

_He must think I'm stupid, or just really unobservant._

Unobservant—a Swan? Ha!

"What I don't understand," Charlie continued, swirling the liquid in his whiskey glass, "is how they _could _know."

Carlisle sighed loudly, earning each individual's attention as he took a step away from his position by the fireplace. My brothers and sisters were present too. Emmett stood with his arms wrapped around Rosalie behind the loveseat where Bella and I were seated. On the opposite couch, Jasper was wedged in between Alice and Esme.

"Certain members of the Quileute tribe," Carlisle explained, his gaze fixed on Charlie "have been aware of what we are for some time."

"How?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Old legends and superstition. Their ancestors were terrorised once by our kind. It affected them enough that they continued to pass down the story."

Charlie's eyes landed on my face, and his lips pursed. _Other than your family, are there any other _good _immortals out there?_

I nodded. "There's another family in Alaska, but they try to be inconspicuous like us. No one has any stories to tell about the good guys, because they don't go out of their way to bother other people."

He nodded and took another swig of his drink. _Makes sense. The news usually only covers the scum. _"So, um, should I not let on that I know, or do you want me to say something?"

"It would probably be better if you didn't," Carlisle stated. "Our relationship with the tribe is delicate. You already know they don't particularly like us."

"I kinda figured that, yeah."

"They're more likely to leave us to our business if we keep a low profile. If they found out you knew about us, it would only raise suspicion and concern."

"Alright," Charlie nodded, "so I keep my mouth shut then. I can do that." He began gnawing at his lip again, his expression pensive. _I know things aren't great between you and Jake, Edward._

"Not particularly," I agreed.

_Right. I guess now I understand why. Still, you should probably know that he was getting a bit antsy today. I think he thinks Bella is like you guys now, even though I told him over and over that she's just the same as she's always been. I caught him pacing in the kitchen at one point. He's paranoid. It wouldn't surprise me if you ran into him sometime soon._

"Thanks for the warning. I'll bear it in mind."

"What warning?" Bella demanded softly. She looked at her father, and then at me, before repeating the motion.

"It's nothing," I assured her. She wasn't buying it.

_Edward, what's going on?_

"I swear it's nothing. Charlie was just telling me that the mu—that Jacob is a little apprehensive at the moment."

"All the more reason to stay away," Jasper cut in, looking at Bella pointedly. She blushed under his gaze, but nodded in agreement. "As long as we don't cause trouble and keep our distance, I'm sure the Quileutes will keep him under control."

It was a relief when the conversation finally deviated away from the Wolves. Jacob Black was the last person I wanted to think about.

After he'd finished with his first glass of fire whiskey, Charlie declined another, but accepted a beer. We'd stocked the fridge with cans the day before.

He spluttered awkwardly when Esme handed him his gift—a fishing sonar system from all of us—apologising for not having anything to offer in return. My mother waved it off, quite happy regardless, like the rest of us. As Alice had predicted when we'd purchased it, the Chief loved the present, and spent a good twenty minutes immersed in the instruction manual.

Bella and I left him to it, and went outside, where we built a snow man. It only took five minutes to do, since gathering the raw material was far quicker when you were blessed with super speed. Bella didn't even have to wrap up for the occasion; instead, she simply cast a thermal spell to keep herself warm.

When Alice brought the carrot out, Bella spent an additional five minutes ribbing her for thinking we'd allow _our _snowman to live his life with a mutated nose. My sister probably would have blushed if she'd been human, and stuck her tongue out at the teasing girl.

"You don't want the other snowmen to make fun of him, do you?" I chortled.

"Oh, shut up," Alice chuckled, screwing the carrot into the head. "It doesn't count if all the rest have mutated noses too. Besides, it's just selective breeding; they're not really mutants. That was the candy talking."

After much dispute, we decided to name the snowman Norris. Personally, I thought he deserved a more majestic name than that, for he had a very regal air about him, with his strong nose, his robust belly, and his black top hot. Bella argued, claiming that she didn't want our creation to get above himself, and that a more humble name would prevent his head from swelling.

Later, we played charades in the living room. By that point, Charlie was onto his third can, and though he wasn't drunk, he was certainly looser than he would normally have been around my family.

Emmett and Jasper were proving to be decent competition as they knocked back glass after glass. The initial effect was giddiness, and they moved and spoke a little more swiftly than they should have. I would have argued, only, in his merry state, the newest human in on our act found the whole thing rather funny, especially when it was Emmett's turn to mime to his team: Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice.

He got a 1920's Broadway show, so, without a moment's hesitation, he broke out into a full on tap dance routine, his feet moving so quickly that they were a blur to Charlie's eyes. The man gawked for a moment, eyes bugging, before throwing his head back with a snort. I could see the humour too. Emmett was an ape—a tap dancing ape.

"ELEANOR POWELL!" Jasper squealed, jumping in his seat like an excited school girl. I suppressed a cackle.

"Bill Robinson!" shouted Alice.

"Cholly Atkins!" cried Rosalie.

"FRED ASTAIRE!"

Emmett pointed at Jasper immediately, and gave him the thumbs up, before he stuck out his behind, wiggling it vigorously, and thrust out his chest, cupping his hands over his pectorals.

"GIRL! FEMALE! LOLITHA! SCARLET WOMAN! CALL GIRL! COURTISAN! LADY OF NEGOTIABLE AFFECTIONS! FILLE DE JOIE!" Jasper screamed, pulling at his hair. Emmett shook his head furiously.

"Jasper," Rosalie growled, poking him in the shoulder, "let us get a word in, would you?"

He couldn't control his mouth, though, thanks to the dragon's blood binge—which probably wasn't even over yet—and his mind was far less shrewd than it normally would have been. As a result, he continued to spout off rubbish and incorrect answers, having temporarily forgotten that he was meant to be searching for something linking to Fred Astaire.

"CONCUBINE! COMMERCIAL SEX WORKER! FULL BODY MASEUSE! ESCORT! FALLEN WOMAN—"

"What the hell is going on in that head of yours?" Alice freaked.

"WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE! SCARLET FEMALE! LADY OF THE—"

Emmett pointed, and nodded his head.

"Lady?" Rosalie clarified.

He nodded again.

"Lady Be Good!"

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!"

Dumb launched himself from the couch, into the arms of Dumber, who lifted him off the ground in celebration. Bella and Charlie were leaning against each other for support, laughing hysterically at the spectacle.

"I love you, man!" Emmett cheered. "That was awesome!"

"I love you too, Em!"

"Hey," Rosalie said, standing up, hands on hips, "I'm the one who got the answer. Shouldn't you be telling me how awesome _I _am?"

"I wouldn't worry, Rose." My sister turned to look at me, her brow furrowing. I nodded my head to my whooping brothers. "Making inappropriate declarations of love is apparently normal for intoxicated males."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling in spite of her irritation. "Sister, dearest?"

"Rosalie?"

"Come on, let's go have what _they're _having. Apparently, the world is a funnier place to be when you're an idiot."

Alice nodded and jumped up from the couch, linking her arm with my golden haired sister's, before the two of them skipped away into the kitchen.

I drove Charlie home at eight. There was no way he would've been able to get back alone; firstly, his morals would never have allowed it, and, secondly, his reflex skills were seriously suffering.

"Y'know," he slurred, as he wobbled through the front door. "Y'ralright, Edward. Y'rall 'n oooohw-kay bunch."

"Thanks Charlie."

He pointed to my wrist. "Like it?"

"The spy band?" I replied, looking down at the gift Bella had bought me. Warmth seemed to seep through my body in those next few seconds, and my lips spread automatically, until the corners were practically touching my eyes. "I love it. What better way is there to make sure she's safe?"

"Yu-up."

I chuckled quietly as Charlie hiccupped, and left shortly afterwards, speeding away, back to the house, where Bella would be waiting for me.

She was nowhere in sight though when I returned, and I couldn't hear her heartbeat.

"Bella?" I panicked, zipping from room to room.

_She's out flying, _Esme informed me from her bedroom, where she was testing out the magic art kit, painting a vase of tulips. Carlisle resided nearby, sprawled out on the bed with his head in a book, magical magnifying glass in hand.

_Go find her, _my mother instructed,_ before she gets tired of waiting for you._

"I will, thanks." And with that, I raced back downstairs, grabbing my new Firebolt from beside the Christmas tree, before zooming outside and shooting up, leaving the ground below.

The clouds were thick overhead, blocking out the moon and stars. Once I'd gained enough altitude, I began scanning the landscape, which, to my eyes, was painted in white, deep purples, and indigo. The forest stretched out into the distance, over hills and cliffs, obscuring my view of the area.

Hovering in mid air, I closed my eyes, lending all my concentration to seeking out Bella through sound alone. There was still no trace of her heartbeat; I was out of range. I couldn't even discern the wings of birds or the hooves of animals as the wind surged around my ears. They must all have returned to their shelters, eager to escape the cold.

The air whistled as I sped off. The only thoughts I could hear were those of my family, just over a mile away. I searched farther, trying to find another mind to connect with. My sense of smell was useless in the air; Bella must've flown downwind.

Then, suddenly, an image permeated my mind: a wide, circular clearing overrun with white, yellow and purple wildflowers, their heads looking up in worship of the sun. As soon as it came, the memorised picture faded. I grinned widely, before turning east, anticipating the imminent rendezvous.

When I reached the meadow, however, Bella was nowhere to be seen. The place was asleep beneath the soft white veil of snow, and would remain so for some time. I touched down in the dead centre, instantly aware that the object of my affections had been here earlier. She'd left her scent behind. It cut directly along the middle, from one side to the other, the trail ending at the trees.

Odd.

I stopped suddenly as my eyes caught on a yellow post-it note pinned to a branch. The image caused my breath stop, before picking up a second later, its tempo much faster than normal, due to a sudden burst of excitement. When I read the words written upon it, a wide grin spread across my face.

_Find me if you can: mushroom ravioli._

I threw back my head and laughed loudly. A treasure hunt. Was that what we were playing? To me, a vampire, this was a very appetising prospect. I wondered how long it would take to get to Port Angeles on a Firebolt. Certainly no more than ten minutes, I estimated. It would take only a matter of seconds for an apparating witch.

"Alright, Bella," I chuckled, swinging my leg back over the broom, "I'll play along."

The flight to Bella Italia was incredible! Whizzing over the ground at super speeds was exhilarating enough, but to surge through the air at an equal velocity, the world rushing by beneath, was nothing short of spectacular. I could appreciate more and more, with each passing minute, why Bella was always so underwhelmed by fast cars.

The streets, all of which were illuminated by the orangey glow of the lights, were deserted, the locals tucked away indoors for the holiday. I scanned the area to ensure it was safe, and searched through all the minds in range. When I was certain that no one would see me, I landed on the roof of the restaurant, my eyes flying in every direction as I caught Bella's scent again.

The next clue was taped to a rising air vent. I snatched at it immediately, hit by another surge of excitement. The note fluttered against the light breeze, and my heart swelled to double its size as I read the message.

_I dream of you._

Within ten minutes, I was back in Forks, quietly easing open Bella's window. My vampiric vision made locating the next note a simple task. I moved silently over the floorboards as I went to retrieve it. This clue was a little less obvious than the other two had been. It read:

_The hunt ends at the beginning._

"At the beginning," I whispered, pursing my lips. Did that mean she wanted me to return to the meadow, or the house? That didn't seem to fit, since my witch was a little more imaginative than that.

"The beginning," I said again, this time, understanding the riddle's meaning.

After carefully folding up the note, and transferring it to my pocket, I set off once more, into the night sky, my thoughts centred on Forks' High School, and the girl awaiting me there.

I couldn't see through the cafeteria windows when I landed. They were frosted, like the panes you'd place in a bathroom for privacy. They were softly illuminated by a glow from inside. Music filled my ears—a slow and gentle composition. I recognised the soothing notes of Claire De Lune, listening in wonder as my legs moved of their own volition, pulling me closer to the noise and the beautiful accompanying heartbeat.

The door was unlocked, naturally. My breath caught in my lungs as I silently pushed it open.

Bella stood in the centre of the candlelit room, barefoot, her eyes closed as she swayed softly to the melody, which was coming from a charmed piano up by the western wall. The desks were stacked against the sides of the room, creating a wide space for her to dance in, not that she was making full use of it. She was wearing a white, strapless maxi dress. The material fitted snugly around her chest, but draped more loosely beneath the empire line, swaying as she did.

I'd never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. She looked so incredibly peaceful … like an angel—even the sound of her humming was heavenly—so much so that I simply couldn't bring myself to announce my presence. I merely stood on the sidelines and watched in wonder, unable to believe that she was mine.

When Debussy was replaced by my own composition, however—her lullaby—I had to step in. I softly called her name and she froze, opening her eyes a second later. She didn't display any sign of embarrassment—unusual for her—as she greeted me with a warm and tender smile.

We exchanged no words as I approached, and the silence continued as I took her in my arms, stretching on and into our dance. She rested her head on my shoulder, her face turned inwards, so that her warm breath blew gently onto my neck each time she exhaled. Save for the burn in my throat, I was completely and utterly content.

For half an hour, that was all we did—slow dance in circles, never straying from the centre of the room, neither of us uttering a single syllable. The only significant sounds were those created by the piano, Bella's heart, our feet as they moved over the tiles, and our relaxed, synchronised breathing.

At one point, she dropped her shield, remembering what I'd said after the Quidditch World Cup, about how she should abandon Occlumency as a Christmas gift. Her thoughts were quiet and peaceful, in tune with the atmosphere. They didn't really stray any further than the present, and what she was feeling as we moved together.

Eventually, however, she did wonder about how I'd found the game.

"I liked it very much," I told her softly. "It was fun, especially since I'm a hunter by nature. I should congratulate you on your spontaneity. People rarely manage to surprise me."

_I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was fun for me too._

"Where were you when you showed me the meadow?"

_In the forest, a couple of miles from the house, where the trees were thick. I felt you trying to find me, and I'd already placed all the clues by the time you'd arrived back. It only took five minutes. So after you started out for the meadow, I came here and set up._

"The piano?"

_Borrowed from the music department._

"And the dress? Which looks lovely on you by the way."

She smiled against my neck. _Alice, of course. She was tipsy when I asked. I think she very nearly fainted._

I laughed, before adjusting my head so that I could see her face. When the amusement subsided, another wave of tender emotion swept over me. Staring deeply into her chocolate eyes, I said, "I can't believe you did all this for me."

_You should know by now that I'd do anything for you._

I nodded sternly. "I know. It's just … you're dancing."

She tilted her head back, allowing me to support her body, and laughed up to the ceiling.

"Voluntarily," I added, strengthening my point.

"I am, aren't I?"

"Yes, which is entirely out of character for you. I'm conflicted as to whether or not I should deliver you to the hospital."

She aimed a playful smack to my chest. I caught her hand and held it there, injecting a pleasing tension into the atmosphere, which only deepened as our eyes held one another's. After a few moments, however, it was broken by my Bella, as she reached up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

It was half past ten when the two of us set off back to her house. We flew, rather than apparating, and soared up through the night sky until we were above the cloud bank. Up there, her white dress illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon and stars, Bella really did look ethereal.

The misty sky-scape was so incredible to behold, the artificial light from below completely blocked by the white spanning blanket, that we dawdled a little, prolonging the journey.

"I should've thought to use a thermal spell in bed a long time ago," Bella told me when we eventually made it back.

I had to agree with that. It was nice not to have to be separated from her by lots of thin layers and a duvet. I arched my body around hers as she laid with her back to me, humming her lullaby. Fifteen minutes after our arrival, she was asleep. Twenty minutes later, she was talking, mumbling my name and something about carrots.

I had every intention of staying with her until she woke up, but that plan went out the window when four irritating voices echoed in my head, demanding my attention.

_Eddie!_

My eyes bulged. What the …

_Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! You up there, dude?_

"Emmett!" I hissed, too low to wake Bella. "What in the blazes do you want?"

_Hey, _he huffed mentally,_ is that any way to speak to your adoring brother? Come on, Eddie."_

I clenched my jaw and swung from the bed, flitting to the window and lifting it open. "Would you stop calling me that!" I demanded, looking down at my four siblings. The girls were sat on their spouses' shoulders, all of them waving up at me.

What was peculiar, on top of their obvious intoxicated condition, was the fact that their irises possessed a higher saturation of colour. Rosalie's eyes, for example, which had been a soft violet a few hours ago, were now a deep purple. Jasper's eyes were a metallic silver, rather than grey. Emmett's were an unnatural shade of blue; he looked ghostly. Alice's, funnily enough, had been intensified back to gold, since their normal shade hung somewhere between green and hazel.

"Come on, grumpy," Alice whispered, swaying from side to side, her eyelids drooping slightly, "we have lots and lots and lots and lots and lots—"

I gently banged my head against the wall.

"…and lots and lots and lots of stuff to do."

"Like?"

She threw her head back and giggled. Rosalie did the same, before she looked at me and held up an oversized hat—Bella's headless hat to be precise.

"We have a cunning plan."

Emmett and Jasper vibrated against the shadows, pressing their palms to their faces to muffle the sound of their laughter.

I sighed at my drunken brothers and sisters. "What kind of cunning plan?"

_Duh, _thought Rosalie. _We're going to go freak out the Wolves._

Though my sister's words rang as clear as a bell in my head, I couldn't bring myself to accept them. I stared blankly at the group below for what felt like minutes, unable to believe that anyone could be so stupid. When I finally realised that they were resolved on their plot, my eyes flashed wide with fury, and my lips curled back over my teeth.

"Oooh," Jasper mocked, "someone's got his panties in a twist."

Emmett snorted. "Oh, man. Edward in lace. Sexy!"

The mental image he sent me pushed me a step closer to the edge, and it took everything I had not to fling myself down there and give him another good kick where it hurt.

"You. Are. An. Imbecile." I growled.

"At least I don't wear lace."

_Come on, Edward, _Alice pouted, batting her eyelashes. _Come and have some fun with us!_

"We are not provoking the Wolves!"

_Alright, fine. We can just find someone else to prank instead. How about Mike Newton? He's home for the holidays. I know how much you loathe the guy. Pleeeeeeease!"_

My expression smoothed out at Alice's suggestion. It was true … I severely disliked Newton …

I shook my head. "We shouldn't."

"You know you want to," Alice sang. _You really, really want to._

"That doesn't change the fact we shouldn't," I smirked.

_Of course it does._

"If you'd said that every time we'd wanted something in the past, we would have left a trail of corpses behind us wherever we went."

"Yeah, but this is different," she grinned. "We're not going to injure anyone physically. We're just going to inflict some serious psychological pain."

"You're mean when you're drunk," I chuckled. She flashed an impish grin in response.

In the end, I gave in. The idea of pranking Newton was just too delicious to pass up on, and considering Bella's past misdemeanours, I doubted she would begrudge me this one tiny pleasure. On top of that, Jasper was using his persuasive powers to fill me with enthusiasm. I would blame him.

Since my plans had been interrupted, I decided to make use of Bella's gift, and positioned one of the square mirrors on her bedside table, adjusting the angle to ensure I had the perfect view of her face. Afterwards, I made my departure, but not before I pressed a light kiss to the witch's head.

Bella breathed out a soft sigh. She must have been falling into a deeper sleep now, because she didn't speak again.

Each vampire clapped me on the back as my feet thudded against the earth, happy to have me on board. From there, we raced away from the house, back down the road and into town. I'd been expecting our travels to take us to Mike's home, but then Alice's vision darted into my head, and she led our group in an alternate direction, cackling like a hag as she did so, her golden eyes crazed.

As we neared Fork's elementary school, I distinguished four new voices, the familiar ones of Mike Newton, Jessica Stanley, Tyler Crowley, and Lauren Mallory. Their time away hadn't matured them any, yet like most humans, they'd quickly realised the qualities fashionable amongst students.

They stood just a little way into the forest at the back of the school, sharing a spliff, whilst discussing politics and literature, even though none possessed any real understanding of the subjects.

"Omigosh," Jessica spewed, "I'm studying a module on nineteenth-century literature, right, and I swear, I am so taken with Hardy! His aesthetics are incredible! Tess of the d'Urbevilles is now my all time favourite book!" _God, it's dull. Haven't even made it past the third page._

"Really?" said Lauren, faking enthusiasm. "I'll check it out of the library next time I go." _Not._

After taking a long draw from the joint, Mike passed it on to Jessica, who smiled and thanked him. She inhaled lightly, and kept her expression fixed, though, secretly, she was actually repulsed by marijuana.

_I hate this stuff. It burns like hell!_

I laughed under my breath. If only she knew…

"Hey, has anyone seen anything of Bella?" Mike inquired. I was clutching the bark of a small spruce at the time. What I saw in the boy's head caused the wood to splinter under the sheer force of my grasp. "You'd think she'd be back for the holidays."

"Swan?" drawled Lauren. "Ugh! Can we please not talk about that stuck up bi-atch? You're killing my high, Mike."

I immediately snatched the hat off Rosalie and stuffed it onto my head.

_Sweet,_ thought Emmett, a manic grin forming on his face as he took in my headless figure. _You go get em, Lacey._

I was too angry to react to my brother's teasing; all my fury was channelled towards the humans. Jessica was laughing at Lauren's foul remark, and the boys were too busy stripping the fantasy Bella they'd constructed in their minds.

I crept towards them through the trees. They didn't hear or see my approach, for their senses were far too dull, even with the added sensory effects of the cannabis.

"God only knows why Cullen wanted her. Maybe he's blind," Jessica laughed.

_Quite the opposite, you silly cow, _Rosalie snarled mentally.

"Or desperate."

_Maybe he found out something we didn't. I bet she's filthy in the sack. _Tyler grinned to himself at the idea whilst I seethed. Jessica and Lauren misunderstood his smile, taking encouragement from it, and, thus, continued to spout their verbal diarrhoea.

There was no trace of the reluctance I'd experienced earlier as I pulled to a halt ten metres from the group. In fact, I was nothing short of delighted when they all tensed in fright, alerted by the loud crack I created when I purposefully snapped a stick underfoot.

"W-what was that?" Lauren stuttered.

They scanned the area, which proved rather pointless. I moved a few metres closer, remaining low to the ground, and found another twig.

_Snap._

The four gasped and jumped back. That was my cue.

"Unhh."

The girls shrieked in fear, grabbing onto one another for comfort.

_What the hell? _thought Mike.

"Unhh." I groaned again, moving out from behind a twisted tree, arms held out before me like a zombie. The air filled with four piercing screams as I slowly began trudging towards them. "Unhhhhhhh!"

"IT'S HEADLESS!" cried Tyler. "OH MY GOD, IT'S HEADLESS!"

His pupils dilated as he chanced a quick look at the spliff between his fingertips. _Ok, so it's bad grass. That's all._

"Unhhhhh!"

The boy threw his joint onto the floor, no longer interested in the psychedelic drug. Mike shoved him forwards, and began screaming orders for him to 'kill it'. Whilst the girls trembled in fear at the back, Tyler grabbed a thick branch from the ground, and held it up like a baseball bat, ready to swing.

"Kill it, damn it!" Mike demanded.

"Kill it? Kill it?" Tyler shouted back, completely incredulous. "I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'VE NOTICED, YOU FRICKIN MORON, BUT A DECAPITATED ZOMBIE DOES NOT QUALIFY AS ALIVE! I DON'T THINK A STICK IS GOING TO DO MUCH GOOD IN THIS SCENARIO, DO YOU?"

My ears caught Emmett's muffled snort from somewhere behind.

"Unhhhh!" As the next round of screams pierced the air, I abandoned my slow pace and pounced forwards. "Kill!"

Tyler reflexively threw the branch at my chest. I batted it effortlessly out of my way, causing it to clatter against a nearby tree trunk.

The boy turn-tailed immediately, exactly like his friend, Newton, and began his sprint towards the edge of the forest, too terrified to wait for the girls, all forms of chivalry now abandoned.

Lauren and Jessica, meanwhile, were far too panicked to notice the many roots protruding up through the dirt, and continued to lose their footing in their attempts to scramble away. I shouldn't have taken such pleasure in their fear, but it felt immensely satisfying to finally have my revenge on the malicious blonde and her two-faced crony.

"UNHHHHHHH!"

They released one final duet of horrified shrieks, before they finally broke free of the sinister woodland together, and pelted away towards the main road.

Not a second later, the silence exploded, giving birth to a raucous chorus of howls and hyena-like laughter. The hat slipped off my head as I doubled over, barking out my delight along with my brothers and sisters.

And that was how we remained for the next half hour. The others were too giddy from the dragon's blood to move. Whenever they tried, they simply fell about laughing again, onto the dusty ground. In the end, because giggling whilst standing was clearly impossible for them, I had to encourage my brothers and sisters to crawl their way out of the forest on hands and knees—a process which took a considerable amount of time.

They propped themselves up against the trees and continued with their giggle fits, whilst I ran back to the house to retrieve the Volvo. I spent the entire run not looking where I was going, not that that caused a problem for me. I was too busy watching Bella. She wore the hint of a smile. The sight of it strengthened my own happiness, as always, and I soon became completely engrossed by it. My eyes didn't see the road as I drove back through the snow to collect the others, because I didn't have the strength to pull them away from spy band. I even turned the volume up as loudly as it could go, because the sound of Bella's breathing was incredibly soothing. It provided the same effect that some people would probably get from listening to wind pipe music, or the high frequency whistles of dolphins.

Soon, the snow began falling more heavily, building into what could almost be described as a blizzard, the wind rushing against the car windows, locking the frosty, white powder in a violent dance with the night. By the time I pulled up next to the elementary school, my brothers and sisters were almost entirely concealed by the snow. The only parts of them that remained uncovered were their lips, because the force of their continued laughter blew the snow away from their mouths.

I helped the hooting snowmen two by two into the car. Alice and Rose, I simply slung over each shoulder and threw in, but the boys, I dragged by the arms. They didn't protest; language was beyond them by that point.

* * *

**BPOV**

That year's Christmas was one of the best I'd ever had. The days following it were filled with just as much fun and happiness. Edward told me all about the mischievous antics he'd partaken in the previous night. A normal person probably would've been mad at what he and the others had put the humans through in the forest. I, however, had never been normal, and, therefore, found the whole thing entirely hilarious.

It hadn't caused any permanent damage. Tyler, Mike, Lauren and Jessica had all decided that it was either a result of bad drugs, or that they'd been pranked. They'd reached this conclusion upon realising that a headless zombie would never be able to produce the noises that Edward did, what with the lack of a mouth and every thing. Their doubt, of course, didn't make them any less nervous afterwards.

I'd been fully expecting, upon arriving at the Cullen mansion on the twenty sixth of December, to find four hung-over vampires. That seemed likely after what Bertie Bigwig had told us about the effects of too much dragon's blood. What none of us had banked on, however, was that the vampires would remain in their drunken state for days on end; but they did, because their bodies used up the magical fluid so slowly. The result of that was three days worth of side splitting entertainment.

On day two of being under the influence, Emmett, Jasper, Alice, and Rosalie had a 'slow race'. This entailed each vampire climbing behind the wheel of a vehicle, and driving down a two mile road, one that was rarely used. The winner was the individual who came last. It was hilarious to see the look of concentration etched onto each of their faces as they crawled along at snail-pace.

After seventy five metres, Alice and Rosalie abandoned their efforts and hit the pedal, leaving a trail of dust behind them. According to Edward, they'd decided to race to some obscure location in Idaho. Emmett and Jasper, however, stuck with it to the end, the largest vampire in his jeep, and his brother in the Volvo, both hunched over their steering wheels, licking their lips determinedly.

Emmett won, and began sweet-talking his behemoth vehicle shortly afterwards.

There was much singing involved in the drunken antics too. Alice and Rose, on their return from Idaho, brought with them a karaoke machine. I've never laughed so much in my life as I did upon hearing the beautiful blonde and her husband duet to Sonny and Cher.

As I'd already discovered, the vampires were incredibly naughty when inebriated. At one point, Jasper, alternatively known as 'the sly cupid', decided it would be fun to manipulate the emotions of the house's inhabitants.

First, he targeted Carlisle and Esme, right whilst I was sat between the two on the couch. I barely knew what to think when the motherly vampire, who I'd never deemed to be one for public displays, began eyeing her husband with a look of outright lust. Even the doctor was powerless. He growled at her licentiously, whilst his two sons—Jasper and Emmett—sat sniggering on the opposing couch.

Then it was my turn, and I finally understood why the vampires had failed so abysmally to control themselves. I practically attacked Edward, as he did me, almost completely unaffected by the commentary coming from his brothers.

"Yes, that's right—caress her neck," Jasper suggested. "Now slowly move your hands lower."

I don't know how many times I thanked the heavens for Edward's willpower that night. In one moment of restraint, he'd dove away from me like a bullet, right through the glass wall and back down into the river. It was the second time I'd had to magically repair the window that week, so it was a lucky thing for the Cullens that I happened to be a witch—dozens of Edward shaped holes might attract attention. At least I didn't end up naked in front of his siblings, though, and we finally discovered why Jasper had been so reluctant to share with us the stories of his bourbon days. He was a beast.

Despite everything, I couldn't get too mad at him. He was the reason, after all, that I was able to go watch the Arrows play against the Caerphilly Catapults. Originally, Edward had intended on accompanying me, but he suggested that I take Charlie instead, because the sport was a sure way to increase my father's appreciation for the magical world.

Sure enough, he was right. Charlie adored Quidditch, and even subscribed himself to a wizarding magazine at one of the sign up booths outside the stadium. We went to the bank straight afterwards to convert US dollars into the appropriate currency, so that he'd be able to pay the owl with each delivery.

After he'd returned home, I apparated straight over to the Cullen mansion, ready to regale the vampires with the day's events. The Arrows had won with a fifty point lead, catapulting themselves into third place in the British League.

However, when Edward greeted me inside, I was distracted by a series of high groans coming from the next floor up.

My fiancé chuckled darkly under his breath and nodded to the staircase. "Go see for yourself."

When I pushed back the door to the second floor bathroom, I had to clap a hand to my mouth at the sight that met me. All four of his brothers and sisters were knelt by the tub, each with their head fully submerged. The surface of the water was covered with floating ice cubes, some smaller than others, as if they were in the process of melting.

I looked at Edward questioningly.

"The hang-over has finally arrived," he whispered. "It started about an hour after you left for the match. At first, they all complained of a slight headache, but it escalated soon after into full on migraines. In addition, it turns out that drinking the blood of fire breathing creatures causes our body temperature to rise, but it happens gradually, and depends entirely on how much blood is consumed. All four of them were measuring in at eighty degrees before we got their heads in the tub. That might be cold for a human, but for a vampire, it's a fever."

"Why are you whispering?" I laughed loudly.

All of a sudden, the heads of the four soaking vampires snapped up out of the water, their eyes instantly finding mine.

"SSSSSSSSSSSH!" they chorused, immediately after which, they all released agonised groaning sounds and gripped their dripping heads.

Edward shot me an amused look, which was clearly meant to say 'that's why'.

"Ow," Alice whimpered, her voice barely audible. "Ow, ow, ow."

"Never again," Jasper whispered, massaging his temples.

And then all four plunged their heads back beneath the surface of the water, where they would stay for the rest of the day.

The following day, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett could be found sprawled out in the living room. Their migraines had diminished to lighter thudding headaches, but they were still lethargic, and laid like the sleeping dead for hours on end, completely refusing to move.

Edward and I used the time to complete our homework. Whilst I slaved over an essay on the methodology of wand-achieved human to animal transfiguration, Edward busied himself with his Divination homework, and flew out on his Firebolt, whizzing above the clouds where he'd have a clear view of the heavens.

When our assigned work was finally completed, we reverted to our earlier task of making copies of all my important memories, which we stored safely away for future use. We went through everything from that first day in the cafeteria, all the way through the most romantic scenes in our story.

The most uncomfortable memory for Edward was probably the biology lesson, when he'd spent the hour directing hateful glances in my direction. He perked up a little when I tried to inject some humour, and even laughed as I stood by memory Edward's side, whispering into his ear about how he should stop being so cantankerous. He even joined in, and told himself, in a very stern voice, that he needed an attitude adjustment.

It was two days until our return to Hogwarts when we made our last trip into the pensieve. The Hogwart's dormitory materialised around us, where my past-self was tossing and turning in bed.

"The eyes," she—I—mumbled. "The eyes."

In the next bed across, Hermione sat bolt up right, awakened by my sleep talking. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and slid out of bed.

"Bella. Bella," she said lowly, giving Memory-Me a light shake. "Wake up."

I gasped awake at her touch, my limbs flying out reflexively. "Where is—who was … Huh?"

"Bella, are you alright?" she asked. "You were having that dream again. This is the fifth time now."

"Oh … yeah." I flopped back down against the bed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm alright. I just wish I knew what it meant."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" my friend suggested. "It might help."

I shrugged. "To be honest, Hermione, there's not much _to _tell. I don't see a face when I sleep. It's just the eyes, like I'm getting a close up or something."

"There must be a reason why you're dreaming about the same thing though. There must be something special about them."

"Oh, there is," Memory-Me assured her. "They're not like normal eyes."

I felt Edward tense beside me. Sneaking a glance at his face, I saw that he was both completely immersed in the conversation, and hopeful looking. He licked his lips in anticipation, his gaze never straying from the two sixteen year-olds.

"They're golden," I confessed. "The most beautiful gold you could possibly imagine. I see them almost every time I go to sleep, and I have absolutely no idea why. They're so … intense, like they somehow have the ability to … to see past everything physical … like they're looking into my soul."

"And you have absolutely no idea whatsoever who they might belong to?" Hermione questioned. "Whether it's a woman or a man?"

"It's definitely a man," I answered confidently. "I can tell by his brow."

For a moment, there was silence. My friend pursed her lips, considering my revelation, whilst I nervously awaited her conclusion.

"Perhaps this person is your soul mate," she shrugged eventually.

Memory-Me arched an eyebrow sceptically. "My soul mate? Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"

The two laughed quietly under their breath.

"It _might_ be true. You never know. If it's not that, then maybe it's a warning of danger. Maybe the golden eyed man is going to threaten you in the future."

"Or maybe it doesn't mean anything at all."

"Come now, Bella," Hermione chided. "You know as well as I do how important our dreams sometimes can be."

"You're starting to sound like Trelawney."

She threw back her head and snorted loudly. "I'm not saying that they _always_ are, but I don't think it's sensible to totally disregard them either, especially not when you have the same one over and over." She shook her head, worry gradually overtaking her countenance. "No, I don't believe this dream is meaningless, and, deep down, I don't think you do either."

I held my breath and bit my lip, before finally releasing a heavy sigh. "You're right … I don't."

And then the memory began fizzling around us, fading to black, before a new scene started forming to replace it.

Edward slowly turned to look at me, his eyes wide and shocked. My heartbeat sped under the intensity of his gaze, my cheeks flushing as a result.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked eventually, after what felt like forever.

"I couldn't at first."

"No, but after that."

I shrugged. "I didn't know how to approach it. How do you tell someone you dreamt of them almost every night for a year before you met them? It sounds insane, and more than a little obsessive."

"I would've believed you," he murmured, "and after creeping into your room in the beginning to watch you sleep, I'd be the last person in the world to accuse you of obsession. Besides," he shrugged, a glorious smile creeping onto his face, "I like that you dreamt about me. It's one more thing to add to the list."

"List? What list?"

"The list of evidence proving we were meant for each other."

I grinned, and apologised for not informing him sooner. Edward asked why he hadn't heard of it before in Hermione's thoughts. I explained to him that the dream hadn't occurred to my friend during the Battle of Hogwarts, because she was so overwhelmed with panic and the mission against Voldemort. In fact, it wasn't until she'd read the fifty page report issued by the Prophet that she remembered what I'd told her. She'd written to me not long after, just to say 'I told you so', but once the mystery had been solved, it wasn't something we really felt the need to discuss again. Hermione had better things to do than to become fixated on someone else's dreams and love life.

Edward accepted that, and although the smile didn't drop from his face, he quickly sank back into silence, watching as a thick emerald forest materialised.

We were back in Forks, and it was twilight—the one following my first day at the new school. Talto was sat on the trunk of a toppled tree, watching me whilst I paced frantically back and forth. My expression was a mixture of anger and fear.

"Argh!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands into the air. "Vampires! Vampires! In Forks! And not just that. Vampires in high school! I don't understand. What would vampires be doing in high school?"

Edward chuckled beside me.

"I mean … it's not exactly very inconspicuous is it? But then again, the death toll in Forks isn't exactly high, so if they're not using school as a way of picking out their courses, what in the name of Merlin's beard are they doing there? What's the attraction?"

Talto gave a hoot of confusion, and continued to watch me pace. Eventually, I slumped down next to him, and released a tired sigh.

"I don't get it. It doesn't make any sense. Vampires are nomads by nature. They don't live in families, and they certainly don't enter a medical profession!" My head fell into my palms, and I released a humourless laugh. "Maybe they're lazy vampires. Maybe they prefer to steal donated blood …

"Argh! Did I mention the fact that one of them seriously has it in for me?"

Edward stiffened, as did Talto.

"I kid you not. His name is Edward Cullen, and he spent the entire biology lesson glaring in my direction! And it wasn't just an 'I hate you' glare either; it was a 'I want to sink my teeth through your skin and drain the life from you' sort of glare. Who does he think he is?

Edward sighed beside me, his expression loaded with guilt and sadness.

"Hey," I said softly, lacing my hand with his, "you didn't hurt me."

"I scared you."

"I caused you physical pain. I think that pretty much makes us even."

We both looked back at Memory-Me, who now resembled a deer caught in headlights. "But why … why would he look at me like that when … when he spends almost every day surrounded by humans, unless …"

I groaned, my hands falling back into my palms. "Brilliant … I'm his Singer. No wonder he wanted to kill me."

Talto flapped his wings furiously, hooting in panic.

I touched a finger to his feathers, stroking them in an effort to sooth him.

"Don't worry. I'm still alive, though I don't exactly understand why. Edward should've killed me by now if he wanted my blood _that _badly. And it's not as if he's too full to do it. His eyes were flat black.

"And then there's the matter of his gift. I don't know precisely what he can do, but it's clear he's a Legilimens of some sort. I could feel him trying to get inside my head. I wonder if the others in his family have powers …

My past self sighed again, rubbing her temples in an attempt to relieve her stress.

"A family … Not a coven. What kind of vampires belong to a family?"

The memory shifter a second later, though the setting remained the same.

"Talto!" Memory-Me exclaimed. "Talto!"

The owl swooped down from a high branch, landing once again on the trunk of the uprooted tree.

"It's him! I can't believe it, but it's him! The one with the golden eyes! I'd recognise them anywhere," I declared excitedly. Talto stared at me in confusion. "Edward Cullen! He came back to school today, and his irises were gold! He's the one I've spent the past year dreaming about!"

My owl's eyes dilated as he took in my words. I, meanwhile, began pacing back and forth, wearing an elated smile as I did so.

"He had better control of himself today, and he was even trying to be nice! I must have just caught him off guard last week, and when he was hungry, too. I wonder why I see him so much."

I stopped pacing suddenly, the colour immediately draining from my face. Talto hooted uncomfortably as the silence unfolded.

"I think I … I think I understand," past-me whispered. "He's a vampire ... I'm his singer. The dreams _were_ a warning … Death by vampire."

My owl, now terrified, fluttered from the trunk and onto my shoulder, where he repeatedly nibbled at my ear.

"But if that were it," I said, dazed, "if he were a normal vampire, then why has he still not done it? Well, that much I suppose is clear—he's not a normal vampire. His irises aren't red for a start. So he's something different …

"Maybe that's reason enough to hope that he's not going to kill me after all." Memory-Me shook her head and laughed. I could remember the disappointment of that realisation. I'd doubted my friend's guess from the off, but that hadn't stopped me from hoping anyway. After realising the owner of the eyes was a vampire, I'd felt completely ridiculous and frustrated with myself for even entertaining the thought. "Either way, Tal, there's no way that Hermione's romantic assumption was right. What vampire would ever fall in love with a human? More importantly, how could someone as mind-bogglingly perfect as Edward Cullen fall for some one as plain as me?"

"Bella!" Edward growled beside me. "You are _not_ plain!"

"You're biased," I pointed out.

"Of course I am, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Memory-Bella sighed. "So what do we know, Talto?" She held up a fist and looked at the owl, flicking up her thumb. "One: the guy I have literally obsessed over for a year—the guy I was fantasising about when I should've been head deep in homework—" Edward wiggled his eyebrows at this, giving me an _'Oh really?_' look, "is actually a vampire named Edward Cullen. Two: I am quite possibly said vampire's Singer, meaning said vampire not only has to control his thirst, but also has to suffer fiery agony whenever he's with me. Three: if point two is correct, that would make Edward Cullen a very good, a very incredible, and a massively self-sacrificing vampire, one who does not, in fact, survive by killing humans, which seems likely, considering his peculiar eye colour. And four: I think my obsession just got a hell of a lot worse."

The memory blurred in an instant, like ink when it bleeds, and I was suddenly experiencing the sensation of being thrust upwards. Edward soared out of the pensieve, and I followed a second later, stumbling out into reality.

I didn't have the Newton Ball on me today, and because I was expecting Edward to catch me, I didn't panic upon losing my balance. That, of course, made my collision with the floor all the more surprising.

"Ooph!" I blinked in shock, completely confused. That was when I heard an angry cry of protest, preceded by a series of thuds.

I looked up to see the Cullen brothers wrestling a few metres away. Emmett and Jasper had Edward pinned to the ground, both attempting to force something into his mouth. Though he did everything he could to resist them, he wasn't strong enough to take on both at once, and inevitably lost the battle.

The two jumped back the second he swallowed, and let out a chorus of victorious cheers.

"Muha ha ha!" Emmett cackled sinisterly, before he and his brother flashed to the open window. They looked back over their shoulders, and the burly vampire cried, "That's for every time you laughed at us whilst we were hung-over!"

Then, they launched themselves out into the black night. Edward shot to his feet, immediately taking off after the guys. What happened next caused my eyes to pop wide.

"_I'm going to bring the pain!" he sang, "I'm going to bring the pain! _

_And when I've done it once with you I'll start all over again!_

_I'll tear your bones apart, and rip out your dead heart,_

_Slice off your ears with rusty shears_

_Because you acted smart."_

The air filled with the sound of his angry singing as he bounded into the dark. It took me a moment to realise what they'd done, but when I finally did, I ended up bent over, laughing my head off. I ran to the window soon after, and half-shifted my form, holding my mind between animal and human. Noise exploded in my ears, and though he was probably over a mile away by now, his words still echoed back to me.

_"I'll chop off all your toes, and stuff them up your nose_

_Pop out your eyes because you guys_

_Are wicked, evil bros._

_I'm going to pull your teeth, because you gave me beef_

_And when you're dead, I'll go to bed_

_And there'll be no more grief!"_

He had a very sour expression when he finally returned, and it took everything I had not to burst into hysterics.

"How are you?" I asked, feeling my lips twitch at the corners.

_"I'm mad! I'm mad! I'm really, really mad! My brainless brother is a jerk. Because of him I've gone beserk! So yes, I'm mad! I'm really, really, really, really mad!" _His jaw clenched with fury as his song came to an end, and the way he crossed his arms, huffing with downcast eyes, told me that he was probably a little more than embarrassed.

I didn't want Edward to feel humiliated, but at the same time, it was almost impossible to contain my laughter. I walked over to him and slid my arms around his waist, smiling widely.

"Edward, on the grand scale of things, this isn't that bad. So you spend the rest of the night singing? It could be a lot worse. Tomorrow, you'll probably look back on this and laugh your socks off."

He frowned at that, but his grim expression gave way when I flashed him a slitty-eyed, cheesy grin, leaving behind only bashful amusement. He pouted adorably, before his gaze intensified, his eyes filling with a quiet awe as they scanned my face.

I was already totally dazzled before he began his next song, which he delivered slowly, in a low voice that was so delicious, that 'velvet' just didn't cut it as a good enough adjective.

_"Dear face that holds no sweeter smile for me, were you not mine, how dark the world would be! I know no light above that cold that could replace loves radiance and shine in your dear face._

_ "Give me your smile, the love light in your eyes. I could not hold a fairer paradise. Give me the right to love you all the while, my world forever, the sunshine of your smile."_

When he'd finally finished, all I could do was gawk. My god, this man was perfect.

"What song was that?"

_"Ah, this piece, my dear Bella, was written by a fella … named Frank."_

"Frank? Frank Sinatra?"

Edward nodded.

"Wow. I should let you put his music on the i-Pod Charlie bought me."

_"I'd do anything for you, dear. Anything! For you mean everything—everything—to meeeee!"_

We both burst out giggling at precisely the same moment. Impossibly, Edward's laughter sounded more musical than it usually did. I think he must have been eager to keep me smiling, because when I suggested we should make the most of his predicament, he agreed, and went along with the game I concocted. I'd fire a random word at him, and he'd have to make up a song which included it as part of the verse. He was actually rather good at it, what with his super speedy brain and all. My favourite, out of all the creations he came up with, was by far _The Plectrum Song._

He came to the end of one about onomatopoeia, and I applauded loudly, firing roses from my wand. Afterwards, I flipped the pages of the dictionary in my lap until I reached the p's.

"Ummmmm … plectrum!"

Edward fingered his lips in thought. Only three seconds had passed when inspiration reflected itself in his features. He clapped his hands together victoriously and began bobbing from side to side, whilst pretending to shake an invisible set of maracas. I helped him out and conjured a real pair. The tunes from most of his other songs had been original; this one, however, he stole from a Disney flick.

"_I think I just lost my plectrum;_

_It fell into my guitar._

_I can't seem to get it out now;_

_My hand won't go in that far._

_The strings in the way don't help me;_

_They're in the most awkward place._

_I'll go find another plectrum;_

_There might be one in my case._

_I lost my plec! Du-du du-du._

_I lost my plec! Du-du du-du._

_It was ever so shiny,_

_Tattooed on my right knee,_

_And on my neck._

_Now every time I start to play_

_That stupid audience always say_

'_Something sounds funny._

_We want back our money,_

_Or get a new plec!_

We had so much fun with that, and by the time his brothers returned, he couldn't seem to care less that he had to answer every question they shot at him in song. Sometimes, when he was addressing the gruesome-twosome, however, he switched languages. Upon questioning him as to why he did this, he told me, _"No civil word I choose to throw at those delinquent fools, could show how much I'd really love to kick them in the je—"_ He broke off before finishing his rhyme, but I kind of got the message. He didn't want me to have to listen to his cussing, so instead, he delivered it in a way that I wouldn't understand.

"How many languages do you know, Edward?"

"_Many!"_ he bellowed, operatically. _"I know many! The places I've been are many! I have travelled very faaaaaaar!"_

"All over the world?"

The Cullens were all gathered in the living room now. Carlisle, Esme, and Alice were sat together on the couch, with Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett at their feet. The three on the floor all sat snickering at their brother's expense; the others, however, tried to refrain from doing so.

"_One hundred years is simply too long time to spend all your time in one place,"_ Edward chanted, adopting a bouncy up-tempo rhythm. _"And there are too many cultures in this world to limit yourself to one race. I've visited ..."_

"Here we go," Alice giggled.

_ "Norway, and Sweden, and Iceland, and Finland, and Germany now in one piece. Switzerland, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Italy, Turkey and Greece._

_Poland, Romania, Scotland, Albania, Ireland, Russia, Oman. Bulgaria, Saudi Arabia, Hungary, Cyprus, Iraq, and Iran._

_India, Pakistan, Burma, Afghanistan, Thailand, Nepal, and Bhutan. Kampuchea, Malaysia, then Bangladesh (Asia), and China, Korea, Japan!_

_Mexi—" _His song ended abruptly as he and Alice shot to their feet, their easy moods switching to apprehensive in a heartbeat.

"Alice?" Jasper probed anxiously.

"The future," she answered, her eyes never straying from her bronze-haired brother's. "It just disappeared."

I was suddenly very aware of my pulse as it accelerated beneath my skin. Edward pulled me up from my seat and against his body, his arms winding protectively around my back. The Cullens disputed their plan of action, deciding quickly that Carlisle should do all the talking. I really hoped the Wolves would be brave enough to use their human forms, because there was no way we'd be able to explain Edward's present inability to speak normally. Whilst the other continued to converse, so quickly that the words became jibberish to my ears, I was too busy taking in the sounds coming from outside.

I listened with my good ears. Somewhere in the distance—about a mile and a half now, I estimated—eight massive creatures were beating their paws against the earth, getting closer and closer to us with each passing second. As I waited with baited breath for our visitors to arrive, I prayed desperately that both sides would be able to keep their instincts under control. I prayed that this would not be another case of cat versus dog.

What a waste of a prayer…

**A/N: Told you it was long. I can't take credit for the **_**Place Name**_** song. I got that from an episode of 'The Animaniacs'. **_**The Plectrum Song**_**, however, I invented when I was a wee teenager. The **_**Torture Song**_** I did write more recently. In case you didn't get it, which I'm sure you did, it's to the tune of 'Under the Sea'. And for all you lovers of the beautiful game, good luck with the World Cup! May the best team win! Until next time, my lovelies!**

**Glacio = to freeze.**

**Twitter = twitter(dot)com/aegiggle1**


	22. Casualty

**A/N: Have two chapters to upload in the next couple of days. I'm putting this one up now, and the next one up either tomorrow or the day after. I wasn't planning on writing two. It was all supposed to be one, but the second half took on a life of its own, hence the reason why I had to split them. I have no other news for you, other than I have a soul sucking job for the summer, which takes up all my time. I hope the amount I have for you in the next week makes up for the long interval between updates. Thanks for your support guys. Your reviews are fantastic and continue to motivate me. **

**EPOV**

They changed in the trees to the left of the drive leading up to the house—Jacob and Sam. The others kept their canine shapes under the orders of the alpha. My focus remained primarily on the leader, because his thoughts were the most rational and provided me with a better understanding of the pack's intentions. They weren't here to cause trouble, and none of them believed that Bella was a vampire. After the meeting with Charlie, Jacob had informed the pack of our presence in Forks, and they had all collectively reached the conclusion that she was indeed still human, for there was no way she would've been safe around her father had the circumstances been different.

Emmett turned his head towards the sound of their footfalls. "Edward, why the hell are they here?"

"_They've come to ruin our festive cheer!" _I spat, my bitter, sing-song voice too low to be heard by our approaching guests.

"Really?"

My fists clenched as I deliberated whether or not to reply to my brother. The irritation his actions had provoked had flared again the moment I'd realised I'd have to keep my mouth shut during the pack's visit. The others, however, wanted to hear my answer too. I sighed and shook my head, a little disappointed that I'd have to retract the earlier statement. If the Quileutes had been here to cause trouble, it would have provided me with an outlet for my frustration. Swallowing my pride, I sang out my explanation, maintaining the same quiet volume I'd used previously.

"_Sam ordered Jacob not to visit_

_When they learned of our return,_

_But the pup's depressive mood _

_Is stimulating great concern._

_The Wolves are not here to attack;_

_They simply come to chaperone_

_Their friend so he may greet Bella,_

_And then they will escort him home."_

Bella shifted uncomfortably at my side. Her eyes were focused on the floor, hidden by her long, black lashes. Then they met mine, and I realised that brown had been replaced with gold. Ah, so she'd been listening too. I lifted my hand to her cheek and stroked the skin beneath her dark-rimmed lion eyes, before I shook my head in warning. She grasped my meaning immediately, and reluctantly shifted back to a fully human form.

"Come on," Carlisle said when the Quileutes stopped their advance. They were stood ten metres from the house, waiting for us to respond. "Let's go greet our visitors."

We filed out onto the porch two by two, each of us standing by our respective partners.

_Hey, Edward! _Seth greeted me in his usual cheery manner. I nodded back in acknowledgement.

Sam relaxed a fraction the moment his eyes landed on Bella, relieved to see the soft pink tinting her cheeks. Jacob stood stiffly beside him. His face didn't reveal the pain that surged to life when my fiancée's brown eyes met his; he kept it contained, hidden from the world. I, however, could hear it.

…_hasn't changed. She's still the same. God, why does she have to be so beautiful? It's like a kick to the gut. Why couldn't I be miserable over some girl on the res instead? Imprinting on Leah would be better than this._

I didn't look down to check Bella's expression. I didn't need to. I could see her face perfectly through Jacob's eyes. He wouldn't have been able to rip them away even if he'd tried. Bella smiled at her friend, but it was one of nervousness, and it didn't touch her eyes. Jacob tried to smile too, but it ended up looking more like a grimace

"You're still human," he stated.

"Hello to you too."

Jacob chuckled at the teasing remark. "Soz, Bells. It's good to see you." _To see that you're not a leech. _"I figured I best come round. Charlie said you'd be leaving again soon. I thought you would have at least dropped by at some point. Guess not, eh?"

Bella bit her lip, and I could practically see the guilt radiating off of her. "I thought it would be better this way," she said meekly.

"For who?"

"For you, of course."

The mutt waved a hand in attempted nonchalance. "You shouldn't have, or have you forgotten that I enjoy being made to feel miserable?"

Rosalie grunted musically in disgust. _That's right, dog. Play on her guilt._

Leah growled, crouching lower to the ground.

_Damn it, Leah, _thought Sam. He looked at the she-wolf with hard eyes. "Calm down."

For a moment, everyone tensed, feeling the stress of the atmosphere increase. Seth shifted uncomfortably, whilst my family and I stood as rigid as statues. Jasper intervened, and sent a wave of calm over each individual, thereby easing our collective anxiety. Bella still looked remorseful, naturally. I wanted to tell her she'd done nothing wrong. I wanted to tell the mutt to desist with his manipulative tactics, but I couldn't.

Bella took a step away from me. A step towards him. "Jake, I—"

"Why haven't you done it yet?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Done what?"

"You know what." The witch inhaled sharply at his tone, my hands balled of their own accord, and Jacob's expression softened as a spark of hope flickered to life inside him. "Having second thoughts?"

"Of course she isn't," Alice interjected. "Bella knows who and what she wants."

"No one asked you, blood sucker."

In defence of his wife, a vicious hiss burst through Jasper's lips. The sound only served in boosting Jacob's anger. His body shook violently as he took a step towards my brother, welcoming the challenge. Behind him, Paul and Leah snarled, their hackles standing on end.

Without warning, Bella leapt away from my family, down the porch steps and onto the grass, where she slammed into her old friend. She had to pound her fist against his arms to divert his attention away from Jasper.

Jealousy exploded through my body like fire. I wanted so badly to run down there and snatch her back—to have her away from him—but that would only make her angry. On top of that, I wasn't willing to provoke the Wolves whilst she was standing so close to them.

Not so long ago, after the battle against the newborns, the animosity I'd felt towards Jacob Black had dwindled. He didn't deserve my anger, not when all he'd wanted for Bella was her safety and happiness. Now, however, after everything we'd been through, after everything I'd come to learn since then, that animosity came flooding back with a vengeance.

Bella was _mine. _I was _hers. _We were soul mates. I was a vampire, yes. But had I murdered a human for blood in the recent decades? No. Was I soulless? Definitely not. Did I treat Bella badly? Never. Did I love her as much as _he _did? More. Much, much more.

And, yet, even after she'd told him her choice, he still had the nerve to march onto our property, determined to have one last crack at influencing her decision—the one she'd come to completely by herself—before he'd allow her to leave and move on.

It was with that frame of mind that I looked down upon Jacob Black. It was with that frame of mind that I listened to his thoughts; so when Bella placed her hands on his bare shoulders as she tried to calm him down—when her touch sent his mood flowing in an entirely different direction, and his mind subsequently responded with graphic, salacious fantasies—I reacted instantly, in the only way I could.

A guttural snarl ripped up my throat as I locked eyes with Jacob. His narrowed in response, and he was just about to open his mouth to speak, when he was interrupted by another more violent snarl from Leah.

_Stupid, filthy, evil, leech! _she cried at me, bearing her teeth.

Bella's head whipped to the she-wolf, lingering for a moment, before snapping in my direction, her face overflowing with confusion and fear. Those emotions underwent a carnal transformation when she returned her gaze to Leah and Paul, both of whom were still having trouble controlling their tempers. Her body, still positioned close to Jacob's, began trembling uncontrollably, its lines blurring and losing their sharpness. Through Leah's mind, I watched as Bella too curled her lips back over her teeth, her eyes burning with protective fury. What happened next, none of us could've predicted …

Instinct took over, just as it always did whenever she perceived what she considered to be a threat to my safety. All it took was one second—one tiny fraction of time—one small slip—for disaster to come raining down upon us, turning all the world to pain and horror.

Bella's eyes shimmered into molten gold as she focused in on the wolves, who didn't have time to make sense of what they were seeing, before they were driven forwards at blinding speed by their own innate impulses, straight for the girl clutching their brother and ally—straight for the enemy with the vampire eyes.

There was no time to stop the collision. It happened too quickly. With the power surging into her muscles like water falling through a flood gate, Bella directed a solid push to Jacob's chest, propelling him six feet into the air, out of harms way. And then the lioness took her place, exploding through the seams as she leapt for Leah and Paul.

Piercing yelps and screams of terror ripped the air as the cat collided with the dogs. If it had been beating, my heart would've stopped dead in my chest when the two beasts closed their teeth around either shoulder of the white beauty. Her oral and mental cries of pain cut through me like a knife, as those enormous fangs sunk beneath the skin, tearing and ripping her flesh from either side.

All of a sudden, some connection linking my brain and body suddenly severed in two. I wasn't in control as I lunged from the porch with my parents, brothers, and sisters. I wasn't in control of my arms when I plunged my fists against the ribcage of the silver wolf, sending him crashing back against one of the cedars. I heard the the distinct crunching of his bones and the whooshing of air as it was forced from his lungs, but even that didn't have an effect on me. I was disconnected from everything as I tossed wolf after wolf to one side in my desperation to have them away from Bella, as were the other vampires.

_I'm going to rip you in two for this! _thought Rosalie as she and Alice smashed against Leah.

The entire clash lasted less than ten seconds. Before those ten seconds, however, Bella had been fine and healthy, and now she was splayed out on the floor as limp as a rag-doll, skin as pale as a sheet as her life force spilled out onto the grass, gushing from her left shoulder, where a massive chunk of flesh and muscle had been removed, and from her jugular on the right side of her neck, which had been ripped completely open.

My Bella lay dying on the ground, eyes wild and overflowing with fear, choking on her own blood.

_Edward! _Carlisle's frantic shouts suddenly penetrated my nightmare. "St Mungos! We've got to get her there now!"

I'd never moved so quickly in all my life as I did when I swept her up in my arms right then. In our mad and desperate haste, we left the wolves behind without an explanation as to what they'd just witnessed. The last thing I saw in my periphery before I rocketed into the house, were Seth's large brown eyes, alarmed and frightened like a lost puppy's. Esme flew ahead of me, and plunged her hand into the Floo powder pouch so forcefully it was a surprise it didn't burst. She tossed the powder into the burning fire, and I launched into the flickering emerald spires a sixth of a second later, not really hearing the words I cried out afterwards.

Fire blazed in my throat as we were pulled into the rainbow vortex, but I could barely comprehend what it meant. The only thing I knew was that Bella was dying. Bella was dying. Dying in my arms, still choking, her precious, crimson blood leaking out into the magical network.

_I love you_, she thought, before losing conscious. I screamed and shook her body as we flew, forbidding her to leave me.

"HEEEELP!" I bellowed, in a voice more powerful and dramatic than Pavarotti's as I burst into the crowded reception, where dozens of witches and wizards, some impaired by serious disfigurements, were seated. "HELP US!"

My dire plea immediately earned me the attention of every individual in the room, including that of a portrait witch with silver ringlets. Their alert eyes zeroed in on the limp figure cradled in my arms, whose blood was still spilling freely onto my clothes and skin. For one fraction of a second, they were all completely suspended by shock and horror, their hearts flying into overdrive as they inhaled a synchronous breath … and then, suddenly, the Healers in the lime-green robes were charging—charging away from patients with trumpet ears, patients with upside-down nose, and patients with hands on backwards—charging together, like a determined platoon of soldiers converging on a target, straight for me and my haemorrhaging fiancée.

"What happened?" demanded a rosy cheeked man with mousy hair and rounded spectacles. He and three others trailed their wands over Bella's perforated shoulder, whilst their colleagues saw to her punctured neck, stopping the blood flow.

It was a good job Carlisle chose that moment to appear, because I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't force my mind away from the ghost-white face of the girl I held. He forced his way through the assemblage of Healers, driven by desperation and frenzied parental instinct. With the human obstacles removed from his path, he gained a clear view of Bella.

_Oh, god._

Her lips were purple, her skin was ghostly, and she had dark rings surrounding her eyes. Her heart, now drained after its futile struggle, released one last weak stutter, before it gave up the fight and fell silent.

Nothing could penetrate the horror that immediately followed that terrible moment. It was only later on, looking back in hindsight, that I could attach any significance or meaning to the unfathomable chaos that unfolded around me.

Carlisle shouted at the Healers, telling them to magically restart Bella's heart, as a young white-haired woman holding a vial of red potion broke through the ranks. Whilst she tipped the liquid into Bella's mouth, another held a wand over the girl's larynx, chanting something in Latin, to ensure she didn't choke.

Her body jolted violently in my arms as someone else aimed a spell to her heart, shocking it into its prior rhythm. The resuming beat brought with it no relief though. That emotion was beyond me by that point. Whilst the Healers worked furiously, performing their ministrations, I stood motionless, completely oblivious to the dry whimpers and heavy breathing of my mother and sisters. Those, too, I only understood later. My brothers were there too, consoling their wives with steely embraces.

The first thing to penetrate my little bubble of despair were Carlisle's thoughts as he called my name.

_It's alright, Edward. She's stabilising. We've given her a blood-replenishing potion._

I blinked in confusion. The Healers had all taken a step back and were now forming a tight semi-circle; others, meanwhile, were returning to the waiting patients. All of a sudden, the bubble shattered completely, and everything came crashing down on me at once. It was then that I realised a ragged cry was assaulting my ears—a strangled melody. How long had I been dry-sobbing? I searched Carlisle's face as he gave me a pat to the shoulder.

"She's going to be alright," he said again, holding out his arms. "May I?"

I shook my head resolutely. No, I wasn't going to let her go. Carlisle exhaled a heavy sigh, but nodded in resignation. His young, immortal face would never reveal fatigue, but it was there in his golden eyes.

"Alright, but those wounds need attention immediately. Come on." And with that, he led my family and me through and away from the lobby. I vaguely registered the fact that 'Dilys Derwent', the portrait witch, had disappeared from her canvas. Had she gone to relay the gossip to her hospital friends? My fury flared at the mere idea. The others, meanwhile, fired question after question in their need for reassurance, demanding to know how the Healers would proceed.

"With the amount of blood she lost," Carlisle sighed, his eyes on Bella's neck, "it will take at least twelve hours for the potion to bring her back to full health, so she's going to have to spend the night."

"What about her injuries?" Rosalie demanded, wincing as she took in Bella's mangled shoulder. _God, I hope they can fix it._

'Of course they'd be able to fix it,' I wanted to shout at her—at all of them. If Madam Pomfrey could regrow Terry Boot's finger in one day, after it'd been bitten off by a Purple Glutton in Herbology, there was no way Bella would be leaving the hospital with a chunk still missing from her anatomy.I'd threaten to devour every last one of them until she was returned to me in the same condition she'd been five minutes ago.

Five minutes. Was that really all it had been? It felt more like a lifetime to me. We exited the stairwell onto the first floor, which had been designated for individuals suffering from 'creature-induced injuries'.

Carlisle explained the procedure for healing wounds like Bella's as he hurriedly led us to the "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn Ward, where she would be staying.

"Dittany will do most of the work. I'll be able to give her another potion to speed up the cell regrowth, but, other than that, all she needs now is a cleansing serum to prevent infection, and a bit of rest." He squeezed his distraught wife's hand then, in an effort to ease her pain. "The worst is over."

Esme gasped. I knew the sound would have been accompanied by a surge of tears had she still been human. "She's going to be OK?" she whispered disbelievingly. "But the blood … there was so much of it."

"Yes, but thanks to the potion the Healers gave her in the lobby, she's already replenishing herself more than a hundred times the speed it would normally take." Carlisle then went on to state that without magic, a human would need around two months after a donation just to get their RBC level back to normal. Being experts on blood related issues, however, we were all already aware of this. Still, we didn't interrupt our assuasive leader, because his anodyne words were precisely what the family needed to hear, me especially. Bella had magic on her side; she would be out of hospital that very same day.

The ward was very dimly lit when we entered, the only slither of light coming from a cluster of glowing crystal bubbles in the middle of the ceiling. Opposite the door, there was one small window. It was dark outside, which was only to be expected, since it was two in the morning in England.

I lowered Bella onto the free bed nearest the window. Her skin was still as pale as a sheet, and her lips had only regained a tiny hint of their original pink, but the shadows around her eyes were fading. She looked more human now at least.

Two Healers came to help following our arrival. The oldest was called Hippocrates Smethwyck, who was in charge of the ward. The younger man, Augustus Pye, carefully applied the dittany to Bella's shoulder, whilst his superior eased another potion into her mouth. The wound looked weeks old by the time they'd finished, a layer of new tissue already forming to replace what had been lost.

"How long will she be out?" Emmett asked worriedly, wearing a similar frown to that of the others.

"A few hours," Hippocrates estimated, "if the blood loss was as grave as you've told me. When she does come around, however, she'll still be extremely tired, so please allow her to rest."

"Of course," Esme nodded, her arm secured tightly around Alice.

My sister's eyes found mine then, and they were overflowing with fury and blood-lust.

_Is the treaty even still valid after _this_?_

And just like that, my fear and worry melted into something a thousand times more ferocious. I was entirely consumed by a different thirst now, the one demanding I return to Forks and obliterate those responsible for the almost fatality of the love of my existence.

I would leave Seth out of it; he hadn't done anything wrong. I wanted to blame to Jacob as much as I did Paul and Leah, but, in truth, the only thing he was guilty of was aiming a few angry words at my family. That, of course, didn't stop me from charging him when he wandered through the door.

I caught one sorrow-filled word before I lunged.

_Bella._

I snarled louder, bearing my teeth, like a wild animal.

Esme and Carlisle were quick to pull me off him. They wouldn't have got any help from the others, though, since Jasper, Alice, Rosalie and Emmett were all finding it difficult to hold their own positions. Each of them were itching to join me. Luckily, I still managed to break Jacob's jaw before I was restrained, not that that satisfied me.

_"YOU STUPID, STINKING, LOATHSOME MUTT,_

_ HOW I'D LOVE TO KICK YOU BUUUUUUUTT!"_

A flustered Hippocrates rushed forwards to intervene. "Good gracious!" he gasped, before anger overrode his shock. "Mr. Cullen, we treat the sick and injured here, not hospitalise the healthy!"

"Yes, well," Rosalie seethed, pointing at Jacob, "him and his moronic friends are the reason Bella is in here in the first place. If anything, he deserves to be hospitalised!"

"Sssh!" the wizard ordered, now red in the face. His concern for his patients, all of whom had been awoken by the scuffle, and were now staring on at the scene with mild curiosity, removed any he had for his own good health. Rosalie stared at the man in shock. No human had ever shushed her before. The wizard then turned to Jacob. "Is that true?"

Jacob nodded, clutching his swelling jaw with both hands.

The man sniffed, and pointed his wand at the mutt's face. Another loud crack sounded as his bones realigned. Jacob yelped in pain, but then his cries cut off and his expression turned wondrous.

_Impossible, _he thought, gently rubbing his jaw. _Impossible. This isn't happening. It can't be. First, Bella turns into a cat. OK, so, all things considered, that's not that difficult to believe, though highly improbable. A magical teleporting fireplace though? A guy who can mend broken bones with a stick? And talking people moving in and out of paintings? I've gone bananas. That's it. I've lost my marbles. Or maybe this is all a dream._

A dream! This was his idea of a dream was it? I thrashed against my parents hold, infuriated by the dog's stupidity.

"_I'LL GLADLY GIVE YOU ONE MORE MINCING_

_ IF YOU THINK YOU NEED CONVINCING!"_

Jacob's eye flashed wide for a second. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, before dumbly asking, "Why are you singing?"

Leaning as far forwards as my parents' marble arms would allow, I spat, _"Because, you foolish boy,_

_ My Bella could have died,_

_ And now the thought of killing you_

_ Makes me feel all warm inside!"_

Rosalie laughed darkly, whilst Carlisle rolled his eyes. "Edward is under a spell," he explained. "It should wear off soon."

"A spell?"

"Yes." My father, normally so polite, couldn't stop the curtness from seeping into his tone. He didn't blame the mutt for this, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Bella's current condition was the fault of the Wolves. "I'm sure you, of all people, will believe me when I tell you there's more to the world than science. Magic is _real_."

Jacob gulped.

_Coward._

"And Bella?"

"A witch."

Silence swept the room as we waited for Jacob to absorb our revelation. He regarded Carlisle at first with suspicion and doubt, the notion seeming too ridiculous to be believable. His scepticism, however, soon gave way to acceptance. How could it not when he'd just surfed the network? He must have seen one of the others enter the fireplace, and had worked up the courage to follow them through. I wondered briefly whether or not we should be expecting the arrival of more pack members. That was soon answered when I caught the mind of Seth down in the reception area.

He froze at the sight of the people seated there, and gawked openly at a round-bellied man with actual cauliflower ears. The man looked up from a borrowed hospital magazine. His cheeks flamed when he realised he was being watched.

"Had a row with the wife," he said sheepishly, in a thick Liverpudlian accent, as if that was explanation enough.

Seth nodded, pretending he understood, before edging away. He followed our scent up the stairs, permitting himself one last glance back over his shoulder at the crowded reception.

_This is just ... This is ... awesome. Wicked-freaky, sure, but awesome. I can't believe Bella and the Cullens have been holding out on me. I'm totally gonna ki—_

The memory of Bella's injury interrupted Seth's thoughts, turning his mood darker and more fearful. The last thing he thought before he thrust himself up the stairs at full pelt was: _I'm going to murder Leah for this._

_ Not if I beat you to it._

When the young Quileute burst into the ward less than a minute later, Jacob was still processing the information we'd recently shared with him. He hadn't moved a muscle, and was continuing to gaze on at the recovering girl in the bed by the window, his eyes brimming with pain. Seth barrelled past him, and headed straight over to her side. His friend probably would've done the same, if he'd thought he'd be able to get away with it without losing a limb.

Bella's eyes were moving slowly behind her eyelids. Definitely a good sign. Not being able to hear her thoughts day to day was frustrating, but now I felt as if I was going out of my mind. Those little movements of R.E.M. provided the only evidence of brain activity.

"Is she going to be OK?" Seth demanded frantically, studying Bella's wounds. He blinked in shock upon realising that the destroyed flesh was already beginning to be replaced by new tissue. "But ... Paul and Leah—they ... they almost—"

I snarled at the memory. Carlisle and Esme released me soon after to allow me to go and stand by Bella's bedside.

Seth shook his head. "He must have torn a pound of flesh away at least."

This time I hissed.

"Not helping, Seth," Alice uttered under her breath. He looked first at my sister, and then at me, his expression apologetic.

_Sorry._

I nodded.

After a few more moments of awkward silence, the innocent Wolf requested an explanation. Carlisle then proceeded to usher the two pack members outside into the corridor. I stayed with Bella, because I thought it would be safer. Rosalie, however, wasn't overly concerned with the idea that she might 'accidentally' damage Jacob, and marched outside after the three, where she stood beside Carlisle, striking an angry pose with her arms folded over chest. Emmett sighed and went to join her.

Carlisle gave Seth and Jacob a brief summary of Bella's history, revealing how she had been born different, and had thus been inducted into a secret world just before she'd turned eleven. He told them of the wizarding community, including the school where people with magical talent were taught.

"Like people who turned into animals you mean?" Jacob offered.

Rosalie scowled. "I might not be a mind-reader, Scooby, but I know what you're thinking. Piece of advice. Put it out of your head! Bella is _nothing _like you."

Jacob's nostrils flared. "Really?" he said, his voice loaded with sarcasm. "Because I'm pretty sure I saw her morph into a giant furry cat, or were you not there?"

"Let me ask you something, mongrel," my sister growled, taking a step forward. "Can you teleport yourself from one State to another in the blink of an eye?"

…

"No."

"Can you turn a dog into a footstool?"

"No," Jacob answered flatly.

"Can you kill a living creature with a single incantation?"

Seth's expression mirrored Jacob's at that last question. They both stared at Rosalie with looks of outright horror, neither able to form a response.

"Well Bella can."

"Rosalie," Carlisle warned cautiously, causing Emmett's eyes to roll.

_Yeah, cause that's gonna stop her._

Sure enough, she ignored him completely, refusing to be deterred from making her point. As a result, I experience a huge swell of affection for the blonde vampire. Never before had I appreciated her tenacity so enormously.

"On top of that, shape-shifting was a skill she had to learn. It didn't just come to her. And just in case you need reminding, cats and dogs don't mix!"

"That's the last thing I'm thinking about right now," Jacob murmured softly. "Trust me." In fairness to him, he was more concerned with Bella's health at present than arguing his case as a better and more appropriate suitor.

_I wish Blondie would just get lost. I don't want to do this now. In fact, I don't want to do this ever. What's the point? All it does is hurt Bella, and I've seen that happen too many times already! If she … When she gets better, I'll never question her decision again. And if Edward doesn't re-sever Paul's spine after it's mended itself, I'll gladly do it myself!"_

Rosalie sneered at Jacob and shook her head. "I'll bet. If you think—"

"Rose," I said lowly, cutting her off, relieved when the word didn't come out in song, "leave it. He's telling the truth." I heard her teeth clamp together and grind in irritation. Although she didn't dispute my instruction, she was determined to convey her dislike for Jacob before leaving, and summoned the dirtiest expression she could to her lovely face.

_If he tries anything, I'll rip his legs off. All four of them. Bella is ours. She's the only chance I've got left …_

As always, Rosalie was motivated by her own selfishness. For the last few months, however, that aspect of her personality had been working in my favour. Deep down, I think she knew there was nothing that would help her situation, but even that one tiny hope—that minuscule particle of possibility—was more than she'd ever had since becoming a vampire. She'd do everything in her power now to keep Bella in the family.

My sister, ushered away by her husband, reluctantly left Carlisle to finish summarising Bella's magical history. Her sour expression softened as she reached the bedside, and despite the nature of her incentives, it was obvious she had developed a much more caring attitude in regards to Bella, who she now, unequivocally, considered a sister.

A crease appeared in the space between her eyes. _She still doesn't look good__—too pale__._

Indeed, Bella still hadn't recovered enough blood to restore the blush to her cheeks. Her skin was sallow and waxy. It was clear, as always, but it still had a very unhealthy look about it. The lower half of her long mahogany hair was tinted red with blood, matted and stringy, unlike the soft shiny strands closer to her scalp.

"She's going to be alright," Jasper assured us, tasting the room's anxieties. A strong wave of calm fell over us then, and we all nodded. Alice tried to look ahead for us, but once again, her vision was blocked by the Quileutes. This did nothing for her mood, turning it even more frosty.

Eventually, Seth and Carlisle re-entered the room. Jacob, on the other hand, went to fetch Charlie. During his absence, the rest of us discussed how we would proceed with the Wolves. The fray had left several members of the pack injured. I had broken Paul's spine, Rosalie and Alice together had shattered Leah's shoulder-blades after thrusting her back against another cedar, Sam had sustained three broken ribs, and Jared had suffered a broken jaw.

In the end, Carlisle concluded to send a Healer back to Forks with Jacob. I wouldn't have begrudged treatment for Jared and Sam, since their only crimes were to try and protect their friends. During the visit, however, the Healer would no doubt fix Leah and Paul, when I would've sooner had them suffer. As things were, it was in no way feasible to transfer them to St Mungo's. Their proximity would've been too much of a temptation, and I surely wouldn't have been able to resist maiming them beyond repair.

The young wolf had only been gone ten minutes when we received another visitor.

"Bella! Bella Swan!" a familiar voice cried from down the hallway. "Where is she?" _Not another one!_

My brow furrowed as the faces of Harry and Ron flashed through Professor McGonagall's mind. What did _that _mean? I continued to listen carefully, whilst Esme walked briskly from the room to meet the panicked witch.

"Minerva."

"Oh, Esme," the elderly witch said, her face stricken with grief. Her fingers found the ivory sleeve of my mother's crocheted blouse, "Is she alright? She lost a lot of—"

Esme calmly waved a hand to silence the headmistress. "Bella's alright, Minerva. Edward got her here just in time. She's in the Dai Llewellyn Ward, recovering. How did you find out, though?"

"Dilys Derwent informed me." At that, my siblings threw me confused and expectant glances, as if I—the family know-it-all—should have realised the identity of this mystery person. I did, however, recognise the name; it wriggled to the forefront of my mind as I searched my memory.

"There's a portrait of a woman named Dilys Derwent in the hospital lobby," I told them.

"Yes," said Carlisle, scribbling notes onto a clipboard. He was recording the details of Bella's vitals, and deciding from that the additional potions she'd need to consume. "Dilys Derwent was a former Healer in the eighteenth century, after which she was granted the position of Headmistress at Hogwarts. She occupies portraits both here and at the school, and can move between either one."

The professor burst through the doors and into the wood panelled room. Her dark green, floor length dress billowed out behind her as she ran towards Bella and my family. Her hair was unpinned, and fell to her waist. She must have been asleep when Dilys arrived in her office, and hadn't bothered to pin it into its usual style in her rush to get to the hospital.

Her face conveyed her alarm as she registered Bella's sickly appearance, and she was soon hurling questions left, right, and centre, demanding to know what had happened.

_Why is it that it's always mine__—__a__lways Gryffindors? First Harry and Ronald, and now Bella!_

I inhaled sharply as a series of pictures darted through the woman's mind: Harry and Ron in hospital beds, every inch of their skin covered with bruises and dried blood, their skulls partly misshapen. The witch flinched as I streaked from one side of the bed to the other and gently shook her shoulders.

"Edward, what are you—"

"What was that, Professor?" I demanded gently, cutting off a concerned Esme. "Harry and Ron—what's happened to them!"

At first, McGonagall merely blinked in shock, so overwhelmed by emotion that she temporarily forgot my ability. "They, er … There was an accident."

"What? When?"

"Yesterday afternoon," she sighed. "They were out walking with Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Arthur Weasley. Arthur wanted Harry's help with a mobility phone—a cell phone—whatever it is you call those blasted contraptions!"

"What happened?" Esme probed.

"They were away from the house, because magic was interfering with the … the …"

"Reception?" I offered. McGonagall nodded in exasperation. If the circumstances hadn't been so black, I would've laughed at how hopeless most witches and wizards seemed to be with technology.

"Yes," the professor said, "the reception. Anyway, Arthur wanted to reach high ground, because he'd read that that was good for phones, and so he directed the group towards the highest point in the area. The quickest route took them through a narrow gorge, only … only it wasn't safe there, and …"

In her head, I saw her imagination construct the horrific scene. _Rays of golden sunshine spilled down onto the group as they navigated their way through the slim alley, which was formed by two opposing walls of moss-covered granite, as well as an intersecting stream, separating one half from the other. Hermione and Ginny were walking at the head, edging their way along the stream, being careful as to not lose their footing, whilst, Ron, Harry, and Mr Weasley followed at the back. When they reached an ancient natural archway, one formed by thousands of years of weathering and erosion, Ron and Harry paused beneath it, staring up in appreciation. All of a sudden, there was a terrible crack, and the rock above them fractured at its left haunch, the one directly overhead. In the blink of an eye, the entire structure crumbled, and was sent crashing down onto the two unprepared boys._

The professor shook her head, and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to cut off the images hiding behind them.

"Professor McGonagall," I urged, lightly grabbing the woman's shoulders again, "are they here in the hospital?"

The witch nodded, and whispered. "Miss Granger and Miss Weasley were very quick. They had the debris cleared in a matter of seconds, and then they apparated the boys here. If they'd been here a minute later, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley would be dead now."

"I don't understand," Esme panicked. "What happened to them?"

"Rock collapse," I answered quickly, before returning my concentration to the witch. "They're not though, are they? They're not dead? Will the Healers be able to fix them?"

McGonagall pulled herself together with a sharp inhalation. She looked physically and emotionally exhausted, but put on a brave face regardless, determined, as always, to exude that very strength and courage fundamental to Gryffindor.

"The boys will recover, certainly, but I'm afraid their stay here will be far longer than Miss Swan's. I've been told that they'll need a lot of work before they can be discharged."

"What kind of work?" asked Carlisle.

"I only know the basics, but both their skeletal structures and internal organs were critically damaged. They're being fed one potion every hour just to keep them alive, and two additional potions to repair the bones and tissue. It'll be three weeks until they're fully recovered."

We all fell into silence then, each individual tangled up in their own thoughts. Emmett's, though bordering on infuriating, simultaneously had a medicinal effect. Despite his concern for Harry and Ron, he had seen too much magic in the recent months, and had subsequently developed so much faith in it that his thoughts quickly began wandering to how this turn of events would affect Gryffindor's upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

_I wonder if McGonagall will let us postpone it, or maybe switch it with … No, I doubt she will, since Malfoy's absence already screwed up the schedule. Damn it! Do we even _have _a reserve Seeker? I know we could always pull in Brian O'Nealie__—__that kid who did well in the keeper try-outs, but a Seeker …_

Although I wanted to deck my brother, at the same time, his confidence was precisely what I needed. I was a natural worrier, whereas Emmett had always been the total opposite. He was convinced that all three would make a full recovery, and, therefore, found it difficult to hold onto his anxieties. They slipped away from him like soap.

Esme's fears, on the other hand, were more like lead, and would continue to weigh her down until each Gryffindor was completely healed.

_Poor Mrs Weasley, _she thought. _And Mr Weasley, too. I'll bet they're mad with worry, especially after losing Fred. I should pay them a visit._

At the mention of their names, my mind automatically searched for their unique 'voices'. I found Molly Weasley's almost immediately, for it was saturated with that same maternal sadness that had occupied her mind since the death of her son. She was located on the ground floor, seated between the beds of Ron and Harry, both of whom looked far worse in reality than in McGonagall's memory. Mr Weasley, however, was nowhere in hearing distance. Perhaps he was conveying the news to other family members? In his place, Kingsley Shacklebolt was present, though I suppose that wasn't all that surprising. The British magical community had adopted Harry Potter as a symbol of hope and heroism; his untimely death, therefore, would devastate the entire nation. The Minister, as a result, would do everything in his power to ensure the boy received the best medical attention. Accompanying him was Brone, the sandy haired man who had displayed so much contempt for my family and I at the Halloween Masquerade. Alpheus Truman, the careless and absent-minded Auror, was there too, propped up against the wall, his eyes glazed over as usual.

I turned to Esme and Carlisle. "Watch over Bella for me. There's something I have to do." They didn't question my motives, because they knew whatever was bothering me would have to be important if it would drag me away from Bella at a time like this. Before I left, I placed a kiss on her forehead, inhaling her freesia scent.

"I'll be here when you wake up, Bella," I promised her. Her eyes began moving more rapidly behind her eyelids. Good. "I love you."

Had I not been a Legilimens, as Bella liked to call me, I never could have brought myself to leave, but since my ability would grant me a view provided that I remained in range, I summoned the necessary strength.

I rushed back down the stairwell and onto the ground floor, turning left at the welcome desk into a wide, brightly lit passage, at the end of which stood Hermione and Ginny.

The two girls were huddled closely together, conversing in rushed whispers. Their eyes were red and puffy, a result of exhaustion combined with too much crying. Men and women in lime green robes passed by them as they went about their duties. The Healers, all of whom were used to encounters with distraught relatives, partners, and friends of injured patients, sent looks of sympathy in the direction of the girls. Other than that, however, they gave them as much space as possible.

"Hey," I said solemnly. Hermione and Ginny started at my unexpected approach, but their initial shock soon melted into relief, and they ran at me together, a second later. I opened my arms for them, and buried my face against Hermione's shoulder. I felt little drops of moisture form against my skin as my shirt absorbed their tears. Providing comfort came more easily than I would've expected. It felt natural. Perhaps that was because I could hear their minds, and knew that neither were driven by lechery, as other females might have been, even in a situation as grave as this. Hermione and Ginny loved their men; they had no romantic interest in anyone other than the two unconscious boys in the next room. On top of that, I felt a strange camaraderie forming between us, an effect of having to suffer such similar torments.

"Oh, Edward," Hermione sobbed.

"I know," I murmured. After a few moments, the two girls took a step back. Ginny, who was doing a better job of holding herself together, wound her arms around her friend's waist, convinced that Hermione needed the support. "It might take a few weeks, but Harry and Ron _will _get through this. It probably would have turned out differently if it hadn't been for you two."

Hermione sniffed and nodded. "What are you doing here anyway?" she asked. I sighed—the last thing I wanted to do was to intensify the witches' grief and fears, but I couldn't lie to them. I hastily recounted the events which had almost resulted in Bella's death. Hermione's and Ginny's thoughts mirrored the outward horror displayed on their faces as they absorbed the story.

_Is she going to be alright? _Ginny questioned, unable to wrap her lips around the words.

I nodded. "She'll be fully recovered by noon. My family is with her in the Dai Llewellyn ward. McGonagall too. That's how I found out about Harry and Ron—the professor informed us of the accident."

The girls' expressions darkened in an instant. I discerned the distinct snap of Ginny's teeth as they clamped together, and heard Hermione suck in a sharp breath. Beneath the surface, both were seething.

_It wasn't an accident, Edward._

My eyes flashed to Hermione. "What? What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes hard. "I might not have seen it happen, but I know a spell when I hear it, and I'm telling you now, something hit that arch. There was a sound like an explosion, and then it collapsed. Someone must've followed us."

"It wouldn't have been difficult," Ginny agreed with a growl, "and we all know how much the Death Eaters want Harry dead."

I saw my face crease with concern in her mind.

"You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Think about. What are the chances that an arch that old—one that's stood for hundreds of years—would collapse randomly without disturbance, right when Harry Potter happened to be standing beneath it?"

I considered that for about a second, before I accepted that the girls were right. It was too much of a coincidence. At the same time, however, it seemed just as dangerous to completely rule out the possibility that this was all down to simple bad luck. The problem was that, after his triumph over Voldemort, everyone seemed to be taking Harry's mortality for granted, harbouring ideas of power and invincibility. I didn't believe Hermione and Ginny to be that foolish, though. I trusted their judgement, especially when it came to magic. If they said they recognised the signs of it, then I wouldn't contradict them.

"Alright, I believe you," I said, " and, I promise, after this is over, we're going to figure it out."

Before I left them, I gave Hermione's shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement and reassurance.

_Thanks, _Ginny thought to me. I sent her a nod and a small smile in response, after which, I pushed open the doors to the 'Ezra Terfel' ward, and marched unashamedly inside. I had three whole seconds to take in my surroundings, before my arrival inspired the inevitable verbal onslaught.

The room possessed a similar design to that of the Dai Llewellyn ward: it had oak panelling, and the same glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling, though these weren't concentrated in one particular area, and, instead, were scattered in a star-like pattern. Only four of eight beds were filled. A curtain surrounded one, blocking my view of the patient, who, by the sound of his slow, deep breathing, was asleep. In the next cot, however, there lied a man with horrible disfigurements. His skin was hairless and waxy, and looked as if it had melted, for it sagged around his eyes like candlewax, whilst the bottom half of his nose had been completely removed. According to the clipboard attached to the bed's foot-frame, he'd been experimenting with dangerous magical substances when his cauldron had exploded.

"Bloodsucker?" Brone exclaimed in outrage. Beside him, Kingsley smiled with relief, the frown vanishing from his face.

"I prefer Edward, actually," I retorted. Honestly, I could understand the Irish wizard's contempt for my kind, and in his shoes, I would've felt exactly the same, but, right now, I wasn't in the mood for his abusive attitude.

"I should've known you'd be here when I felt that niggle. Been spying have we?"

Ignoring his question, I marched past him and approached Mrs Weasley, who was sat in a brown leather armchair by Ron, her face pressed into his bedsheets. There was no way I ever could have ignored this woman, not when I could hear every note of her despair from Bella's ward. She wanted her son to have a long, happy life, just as mine had. How could I not console her?

_Not another one. I can't lose another one!_

"You won't. They're both going to get better." The witch gave no response. I gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Where's your husband, Mrs Weasley?"

_I don't know, but … he couldn't face this place. He looked half mad when he came to tell me. He blames himself for what happened. For not being able to prevent it. He kept saying it was his fault over and over._

Mrs Weasley whimpered loudly into the cotton fabric. The sound was a catalyst for Brone's rage.

"Look what you've done now, you filth!" he shouted.

"Brone," warned the Minister. His friend continued, undeterred.

"That's all your kind does, isn't it? Spread misery!" I let my hand fall away from Mrs Weasley's shoulder. It would've been a mistake to keep it there when so much anger was bubbling to life inside me. "You make me sick! You and every evil, vile, repulsi—"

"SHUT UUUUUUP!" I bellowed, whirling on the man. Mrs Weasley and the Minister flinched. Brone, meanwhile, was so startled by my sudden outburst that he stumbled backwards and collided with a dazed and unsuspecting Alpheus. Brone grunted with the impact, and in a tangle of limbs that sent the pair crashing to the floor, the two ended up sprawled across wooden panels, one beside the other, gazing wide-eyed up at the crystal encrusted ceiling.

Confusion was the predominant emotion written across Alpheus' face. His forehead creased in his efforts to work out how he'd ended up flat on his back, and his addled mind immediately earned my scrutiny.

_How did I end up down here? _He wondered, blinking up at Kingsley's hand as he offered it down to the Auror. Alpheus took it, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Once he was upright, he curiously looked about the room, as if seeing it for the first time, before his eyes landed back on the Minister. Afterwards, he ran a hand through his auburn hair, before stretching his arms above his head.

"Think I'm going to go home and get some rest," he yawned. His voice was deep and gruff, not at all what I would have expected for someone who constantly had his head in the clouds.

Kingsley sighed, seeming resigned. "Alright. See you tomorrow, Al."

Alpheus nodded, before turning to Mrs Weasley. He waved cheerfully, and flashed her a grin incongruous with the gloomy atmosphere. "Night, Molly."

The witch was unsure of how to respond. On the one hand, she didn't want to seem impolite, but she also didn't appreciate the Auror's unceremonious and insensitive blitheness.

"Er, n-night, Alpheus."

I watched with Kingsley, Brone, and Mrs Weasley as the peculiar man lazily trudged away from us. I'd expected him to exit out into the corridor, but he veered off to the left at the last minute, instead climbing into one of the ward's unoccupied beds.

_Mmm, these sheets smell really nice, _he decided, sniffing the white fabric as he reclined against the mattress. _I don't remem … ber … washing … em._

Five seconds later, Alpheus' soft snore filled our baffled silence. I stared at him for a moment longer, and pondered over his strange behaviour. The first time I had encountered Alpheus Truman had been at the Masquerade, and back then, he had been employing Occlumency against me as competently as Bella. Now, however, his mind was open and unshielded. I couldn't help but wonder why anyone would abandon an ability that offered them so much protection.

"It could be him," I murmured, turning to Kingsley. "The Imperiused wizard. Something's not right with him. That much is obvious."

Mrs Weasley nodded in agreement; Kingsley, on the other hand, sighed and shook his head, whilst Brone sneered condescendingly, like an arrogant school teacher enjoying the superiority granted by his job.

"Do you think we're idiots, bloodsucker? Only a fool would overlook Alpheus' recent conduct, especially after he accidentally put Douglas Twiddle in the hospital! Why do you think Kingsley hasn't elected a head Auror yet? He's not there simply because of his expertise! He's there because it's the best way to monitor Alpheus! Then again," he added, "you probably didn't have time to figure that out, did you? Not when you're a selfish, narcissistic vampire too busy satisfying your own—"

"Brone," Kingsley barked, losing his patience, "shut the hell up, would you!"

Brone glared mutinously at his friend, angered by the rebuke. In the end, however, he submissively relented , and marched over to a free armchair, grumbling under his breath as he slumped down against the leather.

_Sorry about him, _Kingsley thought apologetically. I gave him a sad smile to let him know I understood.

"Alpheus?" I probed.

_Not imperiused. You'll have noticed, I'm sure, that he frequently accompanies me when my work takes me away from the Ministry._

"Yes."

_Occasionally, Brone will keep an eye on him when I can't. We're taking all sorts of measures__: __watching the Floo Network to see who goes to and from his house, intercepting any owls he sends…_

"And what?"

Kingsley exhaled heavily, and ran a hand over his shiny bald head. "And nothing. As far as we can tell, he's not the informant. He hasn't passed any information on to our enemies whatsoever."

I frowned at that, allowing my sight to drift back to the slumbering Auror. Already, he had begun to drool into his pillow, deep in sleep. When I peaked into his mind, I saw that his dreams were filled with bizarre creatures—giraffes with elephant trunks, eels with chicken heads, and puppies with armadillo bodies.

"I'm telling you now," I murmured, turning my head back to Kingsley, "there is something wrong with that man. I'll admit … when I first read the article in the Prophet on how you'd be running the Auror office, I was sure that Alpheus was innocent. He was an Occlumens, and his scent didn't match that of the man who attacked Bella on Halloween.

"Still, even if that is the case, which it probably is, his mind is still…" I paused to consider everything I'd glimpsed in the last five minutes: a distorted perception of time, a reduced awareness of environment, an inability to focus, and memory impairment.

I sighed. "It's as if he's suffering from delirium—always in an acute and constant state of confusion."

"Confusion," Kingsley nodded. "A fitting description."

"Think he's been Confunded?" Brone questioned from his chair, all traces of his fury now vanished, replaced instead with concern for his friend.

Kingsley shrugged. "It's possible."

"Either way," I said seriously, "right now, he's the only lead we have. We need to find out whether or not he'sa part of this."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Brone inquired brusquely.

"How about a stake out?"

Kingsley and Brone exchanged quick glances.

_A stake out, _the Minister thought. _It _might _work._

Brone, it seemed, didn't share his comrade's enthusiasm. "You're kidding, right?" he said doubtfully. "That's your brilliant input—a stakeout?"

"No, no," Kingsley interrupted excitedly, "I think it's a good idea. It certainly couldn't hurt."

"Point taken, but who exactly are you going to nominate for this? Surely not the bloodsu—"

"Edward," Kingsley interrupted sternly, "is the perfect candidate for this, what with his strong senses and the fact that he doesn't require sleep—that is if you want the task?" He looked at me hopefully, smiling when I nodded.

"I do."

Brone bolted up from his chair, now red in the face. "Oh, come on, Kingsley! You can't seriously be considering giving this to a vampire? To guard _our _friend! I don't believe this! You should be entrusting me with this, not him!"

"Your prejudices are not my prejudices, Brone. Edward would do well with this—better than any witch or wizard."

"My eye!"

The Minister sighed in exasperation. "Alright, then. If you're so worried for Alpheus' safety, why don't you go with him? Two heads are better than one."

Whilst I had no problem with the idea of working alongside the Irish Auror, Brone looked as if he was about to murder his friend for even suggesting such a thing. He shook his head defiantly, his nostrils flaring in anger as he stamped his foot.

"Never. I'll never work with _him_," he whispered.

"Not even when doing so could help advance the case and potentially save lives?" I countered. The glare of the vampire-hater intensified, his eyes brimming with frosty hostility. In the end, of course, there was no way for him to refuse, since my question had put him in a very awkward position. What was more important: staying as far away from me as possible, or bringing the Death Eaters to justice? Brone knew the answer, which was probably why he looked as if he wanted to kill me twice as much now.

The black pressure lifted abruptly as we materialised beneath the shelter of a giant willow. We were standing in a vast meadow, which I estimated roughly to be about nine acres. It was bordered on one side by steep rock exposures, and on the, by a line of trees, forming the edge of a forest, which curved in towards the upraised earth, thereby enclosing the area. The cliff face had dozens of little doors and windows built into it. The first wizard to have lived in Marjoribanks Mead had been a serious and dedicated herbologist. He had wished to preserve the area's flora, and had therefore hollowed out a section of the sandstone cliff, making his home in the earth. Others had copied the idea until, finally, the cliff was fully occupied. Except for these strange dwellings, though, there was nothing else there in Marjoribanks Mead, aside from the giant willow and lily-pond just off the meadow's centre.

Brone grunted and jumped away from me. A vein over his temple had begun to bulge when he'd realised he'd have to transport me by side-along apparition. I'd tried not to roll my eyes at that point, and had reminded myself of the reason why he was so opposed to my kind.

"Which one is his?" I asked, eyeing the many doors.

"Fifth one in," he answered, pointing to a door on the left half of the curving cliff. I nodded, and settled down into the grass. My knees had barely touched the earth when I was shooting back to my feet. The motion sent the wizard's heart into a flurry.

"Someone's here," I hissed, my gaze locking on an empty space fifty meters away.

"What? Who!"

"Ssh." Though there was nothing visible, I discerned a very human heartbeat. On top of that, I could hear a mind. Someone was hiding within a magically shielded space, scanning the surrounding area for my accomplice and I.

_I know I heard something. Someone apparated just a second ago. Where are they?_

The voice was familiar. I'd heard it before. Whoever this person was, he was young, around Bella's age.

"Wait here," I said lowly, "and stay under the willow. He won't see you that way."

"Who won't?" Brone demanded in a whisper. "Who's out there?"

"I can't be certain, but I think I …" I trailed off and darted soundlessly through the dark—a lightning-quick preadator, unseen to my invisible prey as I blended with the night. Creeping around to the opposite side, I stepped through the shield, and was immediately presented with a dark brown wizard tent. The spy stood with his back to me, still gazing out at the willow tree, but I would have recognised that wiry hair and arrogant posture anywhere, even though I'd only had the displeasure of seeing it for one evening.

"Well, well, well." The wizard yelped at my unexpected arrival, and whirled on the spot, snatching up his wand. "Cormac McLaggen. What brings you here?"

His blinked in shock. "Cullen?"

"You remember me. I'm touched."

He grunted and rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I asked you first."

Cormac's lips pursed in concentration. _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts__—__teach us something please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees…_

Like last time, he was trying to block me out. Well, that was all very well, but two could play at that game, and anyone who thought to test their patience against a vampire's was nothing short of a fool. I marched past the boy and stepped over the magical border, waving my hands to call Brone. He joined me immediately, too curious to hesitate.

"McLaggen, right?" he said in surprise. "Aren't you Tiberius Ogden's nephew?"

"Yes, my uncle is an elder of the Wizengamot," Cormac answered pompously.

"What are you doing out here?"

The young wizard remained tight-lipped, folding his arms over his chest whilst he continued to concentrate on the school song. I was relieved to have taken him by surprise. If he'd been expecting us, he might have chosen a vulgar rhyme instead, like he did during our first meeting.

Brone's eyes landed on me when he received no response, his gaze questioning. I ignored him for the time being, locking my attention on the man before me. For over five minutes, I engaged Cormac in a battle of stares. Despite the winter frost, beads of perspiration formed on his forehead as he concentrated on keeping me out. Eventually, however, the pressure became too much for him, and he slipped.

I snorted loudly as his thoughts sounded in my head.

"What?" asked Brone, clearly irritated after the lengthy silence.

I grinned. "Cormac's been spying on Alpheus for over a month now. He thinks he's the imperiused wizard, so he's been spending every night out here in the cold in an attempt to gather evidence. He thinks it will improve his chances of a promotion. That must be why he was sneaking around at the Masquerade—tired of his desk job."

Personally, I didn't think there was anything wrong with his occupation. It involved decent, honest work. Cormac didn't share my opinion, though. He was unsatisfied with his position, making it all the more easy to rile him.

Despite his continued hostility towards me, Brone couldn't help but crack a grin. "Nice," he chuckled, "but you needn't have bothered, kid. Alpheus isn't cursed."

Cormac's smug expression was becoming increasingly enraged with each passing second. "No?" he growled, marching up to Brone until their chests were practically touching. "Then why are _you _here! Fancied a midnight frolic in the meadow, did we?" He tuned his face on me then, and looked me up and down with a leer. "I don't think Swan will be too impressed, do you?"

"Leave her out of this!"

"Now, now," the Auror interceded, evidently enjoying my irritation, "let's all play nice, shall we? McLaggen, in answer to your query, Cullen is the last person I would like to lie down and frolic with, and we are here because, whilst we don't think Alpheus Truman is Imperiused, we believe he may be Confunded."

Cormac's face initially registered his surprise, but his expression turned doubtful in the issuing seconds, whilst his hooded eyes filled with distrust. _Confunded? What would be the point of that?_

"No idea," I said, marching around to the front of the tent, where I'd have an unobstructed view of the cliffs, "but I intend to find out."

Brone conjured an armchair and a blanket for himself beside me. Cormac, meanwhile, shouted his protests, demanding that we leave immediately, which, of course, we refused to do

"This is my spot! You can't just commandeer it!"

"Sure we can," Brone disagreed. "Now, either you sit down and shut up, or I body-bind you until the morning. Your choice."

Though he grumbled, McLaggen gave in, and sank down in an armchair next to Brone. We sat in silence for another fifteen minutes, awaiting the arrival of Alpheus himself. Kingsley was due to help the man back to his house, but he'd sent us ahead to make sure we found a decent spying place first.

At half past three in the morning, Greenwich Mean Time, the Minister popped into the meadow supporting his tired friend. He led Alpheus to the fifth house in the cliff, and opened the door for him. I watched through his mind as he lit the lamps in the rocky hallway, and ushered the Auror up an enclosed narrow staircase, which had been roughly carved into the cliff's sandstone. Alpheus' bedroom was of a modest size, and possessed one small window. Despite that, it was a very nice space, with the wardrobes and cupboards built into the stone walls, a crimson rug stretching across the floor, and an oak-framed four-poster.

_Best light the lamps in here too, _the Minister thought, after helping his friend onto the bed. _Otherwise he might walk into a wall or something. _Before he left, Kingsley ensured that every room in the house was well lit. Luckily, fossil fuels weren't essential in the wizarding world. Their carbon footprint was virtually non-existant.

_Alright, Edward,_ Kingsley thought as he exited the cliff house. _It's all yours._

And, with that, he disapparated.

Alpheus' home was the only one with light spilling out from it. The others were all bathed in shadow, their inhabitants sleeping peacefully within the cliff. I could hear their slow breathing, and a few deep snores. Altogether, I distinguished twenty seven inhabitants in the twelve separate dwellings.

"How is it down there?" Cormac sniggered, interrupting my train of thought.

I smirked in response. "I'm a vampire. I could be dangling by my toes and I'd still be comfier than you are in that armchair. How's the frost?"

The wizard's eyes narrowed. "That's right. Us human don't like the cold. Does Swan's teeth chatter when you hold her?"

"Allow me to reiterate," I growled. "I'm a vampire. Watch yourself."

McLaggen gulped, his bravery waning. Brone's eyes, meanwhile, filled with hate and snapped to mine. I was instantly sorry for my tactlessness. If I'd been a human who had had his wife murdered by the undead, the last thing I would want to hear would be a threat from the very creature I considered my enemy.

"What I don't understand," he admitted, his tone deadly, "is why any human would be stupid enough to get into bed with someone who wanted to kill them."

"Bella is far from stupid."

"She could've fooled me."

I flashed to my feet in a heartbeat, invading the Auror's space as I towered over him. "Let's get this straight, Brone," I hissed. "I won't begrudge you your hatred, considering what you lost, as long as it's aimed at me. But insult my fiancée one more time, and Cormac will be apparating you back to the hospital. Am I clear?"

The Auror sneered, but turned his head from mine. Cormac's heart was flying into overdrive; beneath all that bravado, he was just as frightened by my kind as most humans would be. He wrapped his blanket more tightly around himself, tucking his knees into his chest to retain warmth. I would've suggested a thermal spell, but I was hoping he'd just go inside instead.

He managed to stay awake for an extra hour, but his eyelids finally began to droop, and he sunk into sleep. Brone magically transferred him into the tent, because it was either that or cast a silencing charm to dull the snoring.

I used the quiet to focus my thoughts on Bella. She wouldn't be conscious for another five hours or so, but I still missed her face. I wanted to be with her, but I also believed my time was better served here, where I could do some good. I was imagining her smile when Brone interrupted me.

"Can I ask you something?" I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes were on the waxing moon. It was partially obscured by cloud, as were the stars.

"Go ahead."

"Why do you do it?" he whispered. "Why feed off animals?"

I shrugged. "Because I don't want to be a murderer."

His head snapped to mine, and shock overtook his features. "That's it?"

What did this guy want from me? "Isn't that enough?"

Brone chuckled darkly. "It wouldn't stop most vampires. Animal blood can't be appealing, or more would surely drink it."

"It's not. Actually, it's mildly repulsive. I'd compare it to choosing sour milk over ice cream."

"You must've slipped up then," he concluded in disgust.

"Not since I came back to this life."

"Came back?"

I nodded. Honesty seemed like the best route to take with Brone. His opinion of me couldn't get any worse than it already was, after all. "Not long after I was changed, I decided to take the more traditional path. I believed I was better than the others, because I could so easily pick off the murders, rapists, and paedophiles within any given area. I was a vampire vigilante, and fed on creatures about as human as I was. They were monsters.

"It didn't take long for the guilt to set in though," I sighed, turning my face to Brone. He was staring straight at me, enthralled by my story, despite his opinion. "I crawled back to my parents, and I haven't tasted human blood since … except for Bella's, though she's still alive."

"Ugh! So you feed off your girlfriend?"

"No, but I did once have to suck venom from her bloodstream," I growled, overcome by the memory. "She was attacked by a nomad. After he beat her to a pulp, he bit her. Luckily, my family and I got there just in time."

Brone now looked completely flabbergasted, with his jaw hanging slightly, and his eyes wide like saucers. "You killed your own?" he questioned incredulously. "For a human?"

"Of course," I enunciated slowly, a little affronted. "I'd kill anyone for trying to hurt Bella."

His disbelieving expression.

"Don't look so surprised. Who do you think took down the Washington newborn army last summer?"

"That was you!" he blurted. I nodded, before launching into the story. Throughout my recounting of the tale, I wished I could've heard Brone's response. It would've been nice to know how my family's history affected his attitude, if at all. His shield never lifted though.

Silence followed as I drew to a close. The tension building between myself and my spying partner clashed with the serenity offered by the environment we were seated in. The breeze created a low musical chord as it rustled the grass and blew across the lily-pond. The sound was complemented by the steady breathing of the sleepers, and the occasional hooting of owls. Then there were other sounds weaving their way into the composition: the wings of bats, the scurrying of badgers and hedgehogs, the squeaking of field-mice, the constant beating of a thousand different hearts.

Suddenly, a new sound echoed in my mind. A voice. It was Brone's. He was letting me in. I'd shared with him _my _horrors; now he would show me _his. _The last thing I'd ever expected was that the Auror would lower his mental defences. That, all things considered, left me nothing short of astounded. I could see in his thoughts why he needed this though. After everything I'd told him, he had concluded that I didn't deserve his animosity; regardless of that fact, however, Brone would never be able to get past his hate of vampires. He would never be able to judge those good few amongst the world's undead populace by any other standard, because all he saw when he closed his eyes at night—the only image to ever fill his dreams … was that of his bloodstained lover, lying dead in their wedding bed, her creamy skin turned crimson, just like the eyes of her killer.

Yes, I could understand his hatred, even more so when that picture burned the space behind my eyes. I could see it all from his perspective. No matter how much good I would achieve in my future years, I would always be one of _them. _I would always be his enemy, and for that, he was truly sorry.

"I understand," I murmured, closing my eyes. He nodded solemnly, before conjuring me a chair. I was grateful for this display of courtesy, and lifted myself from the ground to take my seat. Then, I listened silently as he took me back to the beginning of his tale, where his horror had started.

**Come back in a couple of days for the next chapter. Don't decide you hate Brone just yet. That's all I'm saying.**


	23. Brone

My time before Isolt was like another life. I was an altogether different person then, not entirely unlike the lad passed out in the tent—cocky, proud, and arrogant, though probably not a narcissist.

Ever since my youth, I had harboured a fascination for dragons. After completing my N.E.W.T.s at Hogwarts, therefore, I had enrolled in training at the Welsh reserve. I could only be employed as a keeper, however, once I'd earned my L.I.Z.A.R.D. (Loony Individual with a Zany Adoration and Respect for Dragons) qualification, and to get that, I had to gain experience with every species in existence.

My training took me all over the globe. After Wales, my next stop was the Hebrides Islands north-west of Scotland, where I was taught how to care for Hebridean Blacks—purple-eyed creatures that mostly preyed on deer. The British Isles was a good place to start with that type of training. It meant that, by the time I encountered more dangerous breeds, specifically those who preferred us tasty humans, like the venomous Peruvian Vipertooth, I knew what to expect and how to defend myself.

That's where I'd been—Peru—when I'd first encountered him.

I'd just apparted back to Lima, the capital. I was renting a room there in a wizard inn, located on a narrow street not far from the Plaza Mayor. One of the perks of taking your L.I.Z.A.R.D. was that you were given the opportunity to explore so many new places. Because I had a limited amount of time in each area, four and a half months to be precise, I was always keen to see as much of them as possible. So, each night, after I'd finished my hours in the mountain reservation, I'd either jump to some new Peruvian town, or simply enjoy the city sights.

One night in February, I was strolling through the Santa Beatriz district. It was eight o'clock. I'd just rolled out of a Muggle tavern that served the most amazing pachamancha, and had headed over to the Parque de la Reserva to end the night, as I often did, when I saw them.

There were three in total: two males, and one female. One had olive skin, though it still had a strange chalkiness about it, and looked unnatural against his dark hair. The woman was fairer, with skin as white as stone, and wild red tresses. The man she was curled around could almost have been described as average … had it not been for those jet black eyes.

Being a wizard, I immediately identified them as vampires, and my heartbeat might have spiked for a second … but I was an arrogant dragonologist—I dealt with the threat of death every day. How could a simple coven of vampires scare me?

They were perched on the grass thirty metres away, observing a crowd of humans as they oohed and aahed at a colourful fountain display.

"How very interesting," I chuckled, stroking my stubble. Their heads instantly snapped in my direction. Though the adrenalin surged in my veins, I didn't allow myself to shift position, and continued to lean lazily against one of the pillars making up the park's perimeter.

The brown-haired man bent to whisper something in the woman's ear. She grinned and licked her lips, but kept her eyes on me. I chuckled again … and winked. Years later, I wondered whether that one little action had been what had doomed me to a life of misery and obsession. Would they have given up the hunt if I hadn't provoked them?

The man's head snapped back up, and he gripped the woman possessively, the sneer on his face melting into a wicked smile. Despite that, I didn't panic. They couldn't exactly murder me in front of so many witnesses. I turned on my heels, and began my casual amble back onto the main road.

I kept to crowded areas, and headed in the opposite direction of the wizard inn. If I strayed too close to that place, they would've easily found their way to my room. On my stroll, I stopped off in a convenience store, and purchased a cheap pen and a small pad of post-it notes. I would have conjured it myself, but that wouldn't have been wise with so many people around. I wrote my message as I walked through the streets. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw the vampires about twenty metres behind. Naturally, they were following me.

I darted into a dark, deserted alley flowing off the main street a second later, excited by the danger I was currently mocking. Before I apparated back to the inn, I stuck my message to the wall, knowing they'd trace my scent. I wanted so badly to see their baffled faces when they realised I'd vanished. I wanted even more to witness their expressions when they read the words 'I win'.

The second I was back in the room, I started packing up my stuff. I handed in my key five minutes later, and then apparated north to Ecuador. After that, I didn't give the vampires much thought. They had no way of finding me. I was safe.

By April, I had almost completed my L.I.Z.A.R.D course, and was returning to Wales to wrap it up. After a year of travel, it was nice to spend some time back in the United Kingdom. It surprised me how much I'd missed the dreary, miserable weather—that smell that precedes a summer shower, the one that, when mixed with the scent of foliage and freshly mown grass, is so classically British.

And then there was Ireland, my home. I'd been born and raised in Donegal county. For generations, my family had lived in Gleannrún, a wizard glen near Mount Errigal. I moved back there, too, and bought a little house by the river, the exterior of which was partially covered with climbing honeysuckle. My mum was ecstatic. Every single evening, she'd be coming round and having a nosy. I couldn't bloody get rid of her.

"So, Broney" she'd say (practically every night), "I know you like your dragons, but when are you goin' to settle down? You're a good-lookin' boy, you know, and dere's plenty o' girls around here. What about Caoimhe—Mrs Deirin's daughter. Now dere's a beauty."

"Bah! Wutcha leave de poor lad alone, Bríghid? He doesn't need your match-making skill to find himself a woman," my dad would interrupt. Then he'd turn to me, and whisper, "Stick to de dragon's, son. Dere easier to live wit dan de real ting."

My father, Tomas O'Friel, was a tall, rosy cheeked wizard with thick dark hair, which was only just beginning to turn silver at the sides. Save for the one spare tire around his waist, he was in fairly good shape for his age, which he put down to the fresh Irish air. He usually wore a pair of half-moon spectacles, and could be found nine times out of ten with his head in the paper. He started his own small business at a young age, and sold potion ingredients in Londonderry, along with a selection of complex pre-made potions for witches and wizards who lacked the brewing gift. He was successful enough that he was able to employ other people to run the store, whilst he and my mum saw to growing herbs and making more of the products that they were low on. Felix Felicis went quickly, as did Polyjuice potion, since no one could be bothered put so much time into makig them. They wanted them straight away, and for that they visited my parent's apothecary.

My mum, like my dad, was nearing fifty. She had wavy, silvery blonde hair, translucent skin, and spent most of her time in the front garden, which she had claimed as her recreational patch. The back yard was for store herbs, whereas the sole purpose of the front was to look pretty.

Much to her irritation, none of the witches in Gleannrún interested me. Oh, I had plenty of offers, sure. My profession seemed to increase my appeal. When you come from a village as small and isolated as mine was, a profession in dragonology practically gave you celebrity status amongst the locals.

Despite my protests, my mum was too eager to find me a wife. She'd had a very old fashioned upbringing, and wanted to see me partnered up, so that she could have more little Broney's running about her feet. First, she invited the Deirin's over for tea, and forced me to show Caoimhe, a young black-haired witch with a penchant for herbology, the garden, whilst she, my father, and the girl's parents, shared a round of fire whiskey in the living room. My mother and Mrs Deirin weren't exactly inconspicuous each time they peeped out through the curtains. I resisted the urge to slap myself in the face.

"I don't understand," Mum complained later that night. "What's wrong wid Caoimhe? She's a lovely girl."

"I'm sure she is."

"Black hair falling past her hips. Beautiful blue eyes. Pale skin. What's de problem, Brone?"

"Nothing. She's just not for me. A bit too … nice, for my liking."

"Nice? Nice! Oh, well, heaven forbid!"

"Oh, before I forget," I said, without looking up from the paper I was reading, "you shouldn't water your belladonna so much."

"So you're an expert on gardening too now, are ya?" she responded moodily.

I tried not to smirk as I gave her my reply. "No, but Caoimhe is. She gave your garden quite a bit of criticism, actually."

That did it.

"Oh, she did, did she?" My mother sniffed, and relaxed back into her armchair. "Well, she clearly doesn't know what she's talking about den. You don't want a silly wife, Brone. Better to say away from dat one."

"Will do."

Following that, my mother would ask each girl she invited round what they thought of her garden before they stepped through the door. She was very protective of her plants, and a high opinion of them was a prerequisite for any potential daughter-in-law. After Caoimhe Deirin, she moved onto Áine Gallagher, and then to Órlaith Foley.

I was supposed to be entertaining Eithne Kane on the night of the summer solstice. Every year on the twenty-first of June, the locals would gather together around a bonfire and celebrate. It wasn't because the day held any particular significance; the only reason why the villagers selected it was because it stayed lighter for longer, thus allowing for more time to drink and be merry with friends.

I managed to escape Eithne at six. The only positive thing I had to say about her was that she was mildly attractive. Behind the roses and those full pouty lips, however, there was nothing there—just a vacuous space where a brain should have been. Mum must've been getting desperate. Either way, I'd had enough.

"Err, excuse me for a second, would you?" I said, backing away before the brazen witch could ensnare me in her arms. "I'm going to go get us some drinks."

"Oh, right, brilliant," she grinned. "Could you get me a fire whiskey? Mix in some pumpkin juice as well. Not too much, dough. I know de sugars are natural, but I'm trying to watch my figure. I've seen t'is dress and it'd be absolutely perfect for—"

"Fire whiskey," I interrupted, "with pumpkin juice. Not too much." And then I spun on my heels and dashed away, shooting into the thick of the crowd, so the vapid harpy wouldn't see me disapparate.

In the blink of an eye, I was four miles away from my original spot, on a country road that snaked up through the Glenveagh National Park. The sun was still a good distance above the horizon, sending rays of sunshine down onto the grassy hills, heather, and ornamental rhododendrons. In the middle of it all lied the quiet loch. It looked golden in the radiant summer light, and sparkled with each ripple. Beneath the surface, though, I knew those waters were far more sinister, filled with all sorts of ill-tempered creatures, like merpeople and grindylows.

I'd been walking for a good half hour, when an insane, frustrated scream disturbed my peace. I was immediately alert, and snatched my wand from my pocket, before throwing myself into a sprint towards the bend at the end of the road, from around which the noise had come. The second I was around the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks.

The cry had come from a girl. She didn't look like the ones from my village. Her waist-length hair was partially pink for one thing. Three quarters of it were golden blonde, but a large chunk at the side had been coloured with magenta dye. She was wearing a black Billy Idol t-shirt, faded jeans, fingerless gloves, and green Doc Martens. Around her neck, along with a multitude of pendants, was a long, striped scarf. The only problem was that a white mountain goat had taken quite a fancy to it, and now the two were engaged in a tug of war, even though it was still wrapped around the girl's neck.

"Give it here, nanny! It's mine!"

"Ne-e-e-er!" the creature replied through its teeth.

The girl tugged harder. "ARGH!" she exclaimed. "You do realise dat dis scarf is made of wool, doncha? Aren't sheep your distant cousins or somet'in'? Ya bloody cannibal!"

"Ne-e-e-er!"

I chuckled soundlessly, too amused by the spectacle to announce my presence.

"You know what? Dis is just my bleedin' luck, dis is! No one'll be mournin' at mi funeral because dey'll all be too busy laughin' at de headstone! 'Here lies Isolt. Her life was stolen—strangled to deat' by a goat.'"

That was when I cracked. I could hold the raucous laughter back no longer, and it burst through my lips as I doubled over. The girl and goat jumped together in surprise. 'Nanny' recovered before Isolt did, and the girl 'umphed' when her black and white scarf received another tug. A second later, her shock transformed back into irritation, only this time it was aimed at me.

"Are ya just going to stand dere and watch, or are you actually going to help me?"

"If I slay the goat myself," I wheezed, "I'll steal all you glory."

"My glory? Bah! As if I'm stupid enough to risk my life for glory. I'd radder live long and prosper, t'ank ya very much!"

In the end, I decided to pry the goat's mouth open. Isolt's scarf, though relatively undamaged by the ordeal, was partially covered in smelly drool. She stuck her tongue out at the disappointed creature, before attempting to shoo it away with boisterous cries and the repeated waving of arms.

"Ne-e-e-er," it grumbled, before turning it's back on us.

"Well, that was interesting," I said. Isolt rolled her eyes at me.

"Some gentleman you are—standing off to de side and sniggering whilst a lady is being attacked by a … a vicious beast." Vicious? Her idea of vicious was a bearded herbivore? I did my best to suppress my laughter. If only she'd seen the creatures I dealt with on a day to day basis.

The girl clearly wasn't a witch. That was obvious. She never would've needed my help to rescue her neckwear if she had been. She could have just used a Confundus Charm instead.

"I'm sorry," I replied, staring deeply into her sea-green eyes. "It's just, as well as amusing, I actually found your little display to be rather endearing."

For a moment, she tilted her head to the side in thought. Her lips pulled up sweetly at the corners, revealing two adorable dimples on either side of her mouth. She was lovely, so much so that I was stunned into silence. And then … she batted me upside the head.

I cried out and clutched at my throbbing ear. She was certainly strong for someone seeming so dainty.

"What the bloody hell was that for!"

She smiled innocently and flickered her eyelashes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? I must've slipped. Silly me." She dropped the act a second later, and stood with her hands on her hips. "Endearing, am I?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Not'in', not'in' at all! Unless, of course, you count dat arrogant tone of male superiority."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Oh, god. You're not one of them, are you?"

"One of who? De Pod-People? De Daleks? De stoic Vulcans? De Wookiees from a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away?"

Daleks? Wookiees?

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'insane feminist' to be perfectly honest," I quipped.

"Ah, so women desiring equality with men and freedom of choice are insane, are dey?" she countered.

"Argh! That's not what I meant."

She leaned in closer, squaring herself up to me, eyes narrowed, hands still on hips. "What did you mean, den, boy-o?"

I huffed, and mirrored her pose. "I meant … I … I meant that …" She arched an eyebrow, her expression now a muddle of faint annoyance and flickering amusement.

"Yes?" she smiled. Damn those dimples!

"I … I don't remember," I muttered sheepishly. What had we been arguing about again? Isolt's grin spread wider, revealing two sets of milky teeth, whilst her eyes sparkled like emeralds, and her gold and pink hair fluttered in the breeze.

"Bless you," she chuckled, patting my shoulder. "How endearing."

I probably would've treated her teasing with some facetious retort of my own, but I was far too distracted by her plump pink lips. Before I knew what I was doing—before I could stop myself—I stepped forwards, wound my arms around the girl's body, and pulled her face to mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that kissing random strangers on a first encounter was in no way normal, not when you were completely sober, at least. Isolt clearly realised that too, because she kneed me in the groin immediately after getting over the initial shock.

"What was dat!" she exclaimed whilst I writhed on the floor. "Are you a Neanderthal, or somet'in'?" She continued to freak out. I didn't catch most of it, owing to the sickness welling in my gut. When my pain finally subsided, I looked up to see Isolt determinedly marching away from me. She was carrying a small wooden case that I hadn't noticed until now.

"Hey, wait," I mumbled lamely, before slowly pushing myself to my feet and jogging after her.

"Go away," she said.

"No. Let me walk you home. You shouldn't be walking around the park on your own."

"No one's going to hurt me."

"You don't know that," I argued. She didn't look pleased, and simply increased her pace. "Look, I'm sorry I kissed you, OK? I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't have." I could've pointed out that she kissed me back initially, but that probably would've only earned me another injury, which I was keen to avoid. "Why did you kiss me anyway?" she snapped. "Do you do dat wid every girl you meet?"

"What? No. Of course I don't. Actually, I've spent the last two months trying to get away from them." Her brow furrowed with disbelief. "It's true! My mum's been trying to set me up with every female in the village. That's where I was before I came here—trying to escape Eithne Kane."

"Uh-huh. Why'd you run den? Weren't dese girls pretty enough for ya?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "On the contrary, some of them were very pretty, but they were sadly lacking in the personality department—all either too dull, too stupid, or too snotty."

Isolt stopped in her tracks, and turned to me. She stared at my face for what felt like hours, searching for god only knew what. Her gaze did interesting things to me. It excited me, whilst simultaneously making me incredibly nervous. I fidgeted from foot to foot, and quietly inhaled slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm my heart. My mind kept flicking back to the kiss. Her lips were incredibly soft, and tasted vaguely of strawberries, owing to the thin layer of balm she wore. I could still distinguish the flavour.

"Why did you kiss me?" Isolt repeated suddenly. I nervously shifted my weight again.

"I don't know. I just … had to." She gazed at me for a second longer. I breathed a sigh of relief as her green eyes softened. She shook her head and laughed.

"I supposed you're forgiven."

"I am?"

She nodded cheerfully, before resuming her walk, the pace slower this time—more relaxed. I grinned.

"Do you want me to carry that for you?" I asked, nodding to her case. The only answer she gave on that was a roll of her eyes. I chuckled and moved on to my next question. "What's a Dalek?"

Once again, she stopped abruptly, and when she next turned to me, her face was a mask of incredulousness.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid?"

Her eyes bulged in astonishment, now as wide as golf balls. "You've never heard of de Daleks? What about de Tardis! What about de Cyber Men! Surely you must've heard of de Doctor!"

"Oh, I know what a doctor is," I said excitedly. "They cut people open and stuff." Ridiculous practice in my opinion.

"Alright, Mr Sarcasm. I was actually referring to de Time-Lord from de planet Gallifrey?"

"Never heard of him."

"I don't believe dis. Are you an alien or something?" For a moment, I could've sworn she looked hopeful.

"Not exactly," I chuckled. "My name is Brone, and I'm from a village not far from here."

"Huh. Your accent seems a bit weak for you to be a local."

I shrugged. "I've done a bit of travelling. I had to enunciate my words properly when in areas where English wasn't the first language."

I spent the first half of the walk telling her about my adventures. She was especially interested to hear about the 'exotic creatures' I worked with. I told her that I specialised in care of reptiles, and described the places where my occupation had taken me. In return, she told me all about the famous programme she watched on her television. She loved blue police boxes that were bigger on the inside than the outside, and found the prospect of time travel absolutely fascinating. Shows like 'Doctor Who' and 'Star Trek' were what had motivated her to take a degree in astrophysics. I didn't understand a single word when she tried to summarise the course content. I grasped that it had something to do with space and forces, but that was pretty much it.

"At least promise me you'll check out Doctor Who sometime," she said as we turned into her home town.

"I can't," I answered sadly. "I don't own a television."

Isolt's smile faltered. "Oh. Dat's too bad. Is dat because you travel a lot?"

"Oh, um, no. Where I live has terrible reception, that's all."

"I see."

We stopped by a small supermarket. Isolt told me her home was only a few streets away, and that she could make the rest of the journey by herself. When I tried to protest, she told me that she didn't want the inquisition from her parents. She was living with them for the summer, until the academic year started, when she'd be moving to Dublin to commence her doctorate programme.

"Well, er, I guess I'd better get going," she said, twiddling her thumbs.

I nodded and bit my lip, fixing my eyes on the ground.

"Um … see you, den … Brone."

"Yeah, see you." Some emotion flashed across her face. I couldn't confidently put a name to it, but I would have guessed at … disappointment? She'd only taken a total of five steps when I cried, "Wait!"

She whirled in an instant, a hopeful smile on her face. "Yes?"

"I … I was just thinking that … I'd like to see you again … if that would be alright?" Nice. Real smooth, Brone, you bumbling idiot.

My heart leapt when she replied, "I'd like dat."

We arranged to meet back at the national park the following Saturday, much to my satisfaction. My mother gave me a right earful when I finally made it back to Gleannrún. She wasn't impressed that I'd ditched Eithne, but I took her criticism with a grin, too happy to care. This irritated her beyond belief, even more so when I told her that I wouldn't be putting up with any further attempts to fix me up.

My Saturday meetings with Isolt became a regular thing. We'd always meet at noon by the loch, and would roam the hills until six o'clock, at which point, I would escort her home. Each time I met Isolt, she was always in possession of her wooden case, which she used to carry her art supplies. Apparently, whilst her parents were proud of their daughter's accomplishments, they were worried about her obsession with space.

"My mudder used to say dat my head is so far up in de sky dat I overlook de beauty already surrounding me. Dat's why I like to sketch de landscape," she told me one day, as she handed me an oil painting. It was a depiction of the park, drawn from one of the high peaks enclosing the area. The colours had all been exaggerated, so that the shades had become something far brighter than the pastel reality. In the bottom right corner, there was her signature.

"Wow, Isolt. You really have a flair for this."

"You really t'ink so?"

"Absolutely. This is amazing."

She grinned, before gratefully pecking me on the cheek. The gesture took me by surprise. It was the closest she'd ever come to me since the time I'd attacked her mouth during that first meeting. My grin immediately triggered her blush, and I found myself complementing her far more frequently afterwards, in the hopes that I would see it again, and receive another kiss.

It was one rare hot day in July when our relationship took its first step forward. We were lying in the grass, surrounded by purple heather on all sides, trying to construct pictures from clouds as we stared up at the sky. I was sweltering in my white button down, which wasn't something that happened often in county Donegal. I unfastened my top button in the hopes it would provide some relief, but I continued to sweat under the fabric. Isolt, on the other hand, was fine. She'd come prepared, wearing a thin white vest with the words 'Space Cadet' written across it.

"You could just take it off, you know," she pointed out. "Your shirt."

I arched an eyebrow cockily. "Eager for a viewing, are we?"

She snorted loudly. "What? Me? Pfft! I'm still holding out for a man in a blue box, remember?"

"Ah, right. So the blue box is a prerequisite, is it?"

"Well, not really, I suppose," she shrugged. "I'd settle for a Jedi."

"What's a Jedi?"

"Someone wid magical powers." It took all my efforts then to keep the smirk off my face, which was extremely difficult, considering how great my own smug joy was in that moment.

"Magical powers, eh? That's what you're after?"

"Yup."

"Like a wizard, perhaps?"

Her lips twitched and she giggled. "A wizard? As in … a white-bearded old fogy wid a pointed starry hat and a cauldron, who t'reatens to turn people into toads?"

I rolled my eyes. Great, now I was being stereotyped. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a devilishly attractive man with superpowers, who spends his time taking care of enormous, scaly dragons."

"Well, in dat case," Isolt smiled, "den, yes, a wizard would be right up my alley. It's a pity I'll never meet one."

I chuckled under my breath. "A pity." One day, if things went well, I would tell her the truth about who and what I really was. Now wasn't the time though. We hadn't known each other long enough for that, and I didn't want to frighten her.

The conversation had boosted my confidence a little, though, and whilst I was still concerned with how she'd perceive my bare skin, I decided to shed my shirt as she'd suggested. I smiled when I saw her staring in my periphery. I was in pretty good shape. You had to be when facing dragons was your job. Her mouth was slightly agape as her eyes roamed over my muscled frame. Her cheeks flamed when she realised I was watching her—watching her watching me.

She tried to mask her embarrassment with playfulness. "Not bad," she grinned.

"That's your verdict, is it?" I chortled.

"Not good enough for you?"

I shrugged. "I just don't think you're being very honest. You clearly fancy the pants off me."

Her mouth fell open in shock, before she barked out an sat up. "Ahem. You 'had to' kiss me, remember? If anyt'ing, you're de one who clearly fancies someone."

I winked at her, and was rewarded with another blush. She swatted my arm out of irritation, only I caught her wrist before she could withdraw. That was when her eyes caught the numerous burns on my forearms. She gasped at the sight of the red patches of swollen epidermis. I released her from my clutch, thinking the proximity would repulse her now … but she didn't move an inch. Instead, she slowly lowered her fingers to my wrist, before gently tracing over each individual burn. I was immediately set at ease by her soft movements, which, to me, possessed a subtle intimacy.

"What happened to you?" she whispered. Her sparkling green eyes welled with a combination of emotions: worry, fear, sadness, and more. It pleased me that she seemed to harbour so much concern for me, though I was still eager to put her at ease.

I smiled, and said, "Dragons."

Isolt rolled her eyes.

"It's true. They're real, as are fairies and mermaids, phoenixes and centaurs …"

"Unicorns and goblins," she played along, not realising that I was serious.

"Yup. Vampires and welewolves and kelpies."

She grinned. "And how do you fit into all dis?"

For a brief moment, I paused, building the suspense. "Well that's easy," I answered, looking purposefully into her eyes. "I'm the devilishly attractive man with super powers, who takes care of dragons."

"No pointy hat?" she said, holding my gaze.

"Only on Hallow'een."

She nodded, her expression losing its playfulness, until her countenance was pensive and serious. "In dat case," she murmured, her voice low and silky, "I t'ink you'd better kiss me."

My mouth went dry in an instant, all moisture evaporating in the heat of my desire for her. I nodded silently, before smoothly lifting my hand to her head, weaving it through the gold and magenta strands. She didn't resist as I pulled her face down to mine, nor did she try to break free this time when my lips touched hers. I shivered as she relaxed against my chest, curling one willowy hand around my right shoulder. The kiss was sweet and innocent. I had never felt so peaceful as I did in that moment, when she quietly sighed against my skin.

When we finally broke apart, I found that I was speechless. I couldn't find the words I wanted to say to her, so I carefully flipped us over, laying her beneath me, and kissed her again.

That was our life for the summer. We took picnics in fields, searched for pictures amongst the sky-sheep—donkeys wearing sombreros, dogs pushing lawn-mowers—and kissed as if doing so was vital to our existence. We went on official dates too. I took her to nice restaurants, and in return, she gave me my first cinema experience. Indiana Jones blew me away. I even bought the hat, and wore it at every opportunity, much to Isolt's amusement.

One week in August, when her parents were holidaying in Portugal, she introduced me to Star Wars. I was addicted immediately, and found myself speaking in a Yoda-like voice for days. This, too, amused Isolt no end. By the time she got around to revealing the Doctor and his blue police box, I was a full-fledged 'geek'.

"Don't get me wrong," I said, my head in Isolt's lap, as we reclined against the couch, "the doctor is cool—"

"Awesome," she corrected, stroking my sandy hair.

"Awesome then. But do you actually find him attractive? I mean … a lot of the time he's played by old men."

Isolt chuckled. "It's more de concept dan anyt'ing. He could look like an old man one minute, and de next, he could be as young and gorgeous as you."

"Why, thank you," I laughed. "What would my outfit be like?"

"If you were de Doctor, ya mean? Ha, ha. Only you'd be able to decide dat."

I might not have had an idea on the general style, but I was one hundred percent on the headwear.

"Would you take dat ting off your head, Brone!" my mum said one day. "Your fader and I are bloody fed up of seeing it!"

"Hey," my dad shot, looking out from over The Daily Prophet, "you leave me outta dis. If de lad wants to wear de hat, Bríghid, den let him."

"Yeah, it's my Indy hat," I defended. "Indy is amazing. I'm not taking it off."

"Indy? What's an Indy?"

I rolled my eyes, which was probably a little stupid of me, considering I, too, wouldn't have understood the reference a month or so ago. "Indiana Jones? He's a movie character. He goes on lots of adventures and stuff."

"Movie?" my dad repeated. "Isn't a movie one of dose plays dat tiny people perform for Muggles in t'em little boxes?"

"That's not exactly how it works. The people aren't insi—"

"Never mind how it works," my mum interrupted. "Where did dis sudden fascination wid … wid … wid movies come from?"

I nibbled my lip in contemplation. Should I bite the bullet and tell them about Isolt? That would surely unleash a world of discomfort; on the other hand, it might put my fussy mother in a better mood. She'd been sulking ever since the Summer Solstice, desperate as she was to continue in her ambitious match-making. I sighed. It was no use prolonging the inevitable.

"I'm seeing someone." My parents stared blankly back at me, as if I was speaking a foreign language. "As in … romantically?"

For a moment, there was absolute silence, and then …

"OOOOOOH!" My mother's hands shot into the air, whilst strange noises continued to burst through her lips. She flashed forwards and latched onto my shirt, her grin manic and more than a little scary. "A girl you mean! Are you seeing a girl?"

"No, I'm seeing a fruit bat named Jezebel."

"Oh, dis is wonderful!" she exclaimed, ignoring my sarcasm. "Who is she? Where did you meet her? Does she live in de village? No, of course she doesn't! You never would've been able to hide it from me ot'erwise. What does she look like? Where's she fro—"

"Are you going to let me get a word in edgeways, woman?" I chuckled.

My mum blushed and laughed. "Sorry, Brone. It's just I'm so excited!" I let her pull me over to the sitting area by the fireplace. Dad rose from the dinner table and came over to join us as she pushed me down onto the couch. "Come on, tell us all about her! We want all de details."

I twiddled my thumbs nervously. Best to get the most important fact out of the way first. "Well, she's a Muggle."

The smiles on my parents' faces dropped immediately. They blinked in shock, and exchanged uncertain glances. As far as I knew, none of my immediate ancestors had ever seen the need to select a partner outside the magical community. It wasn't that my family were anti-Muggle; it just made more sense to them to fall in love with someone you had more in common with.

"A Muggle?" my dad asked. His head tilted to the side in deliberation, before a wide smile lit up his face. "Well, I wasn't expecting dat. What's she like, lad?"

I grinned. "Amazing."

I then proceeded to retell the story of our first meeting. The more they heard, the happier they seemed to become, though I still sensed an undercurrent of concern.

"Don't get me wrong, Brone," my mum said. "Isolt sounds absolutely wonderful, and you know perfectly well dat neither you fadder or I have a problem wid Muggles. But how's de girl going to take it? I imagine it would be a lot to deal wid. She might feel a little ... inadequate in our community."

"Is that what you think she would be?" I questioned defensively.

"Don't be daft! I'm talking about how she would feel. If I were in her shoes, and I had to step into a world where everyone had abilities dat I didn't, I'd always be a little self-conscious, no matter how many times de people around me told me not to be.

"It can be a hard t'ing, you know—living in de wizarding community as a Muggle. I've heard about it before. And some of de people around here will judge her immediately, especially de females."

I nodded, understanding her point. "I'm not concerned about them though."

"Neider am I. Dey'll have me to deal wid if dey're anyt'ing less dan courteous," she responded seriously, "but be warned, nonedeless. Isolt will feel it, no matter how much you try to protect her, isn't dat right, Tomas?"

"Aye, but enough pessimism for de moment." My dad reached over and grabbed the hat off my head, stuffing it onto his own. "Let's hear more about dis girl. Is she pretty?"

For the rest of the night, the conversation revolved solely around Isolt. My parents gave me pointers on how I should go about telling her, and advised that I do it soon, preferably before she moved to Dublin. I think their desire to meet her was what motivated this, but I didn't argue, because I was eager to have her know everything about me. I didn't want to keep secrets, and if there was a possibility that telling her would strengthen our relationship, I would take it.

"What's de matter, Brone?" she asked anxiously the following day, as we were walking out of her local cinema. I'd been trying to psyche myself up all afternoon, but, evidently, I hadn't done a good enough job of concealing my fears. "You've been fidgeting all evening. I t'ought you'd never stop wriggling back dere in de t'eatre. Somet'in' on your mind?"

"No," I answered quickly, in the attempt to allay her fears. I began chewing my lip a second later, when I realised I wasn't being entirely truthful. "Well … yes, actually."

She tensed, her eyes wary as she examined my face. "Come on, den, spit it out."

I sighed and pulled her closer to me, linking both our hands. "I need to tell you something … about me … but not here."

"I don't like de sound of dat," she murmured. "You're not having an affair are you? Oh, god, you're married!"

"What? No!" I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Stop jumping to conclusions. It's nothing like that."

"Den what?"

I shook my head. "Not here. Let's go to the Park."

"What? But it's already seven." When I threw her a pleading expression, she sighed and pulled away from me, before pointing to the street corner. "Turn right at de end, and walk about fifty metres down de road. Dere's a small café on de left. It's covered in hundreds of white climbing flowers. You can't miss it. Wait dere for me. I'll be half an hour at de most."

I followed her instructions without question, and found the place easily. A young woman, who I guessed to be in her early twenties, served me some tea. I also ordered a scone because I was hungry, which came with strawberry jam and clotted cream. After fifteen minutes, the bell above the door jingled, and in walked Isolt.

"Hey, Aislinn," she said to the girl.

"Oh, hi, Isolt! Come to fill your flask?"

"You know me too well."

The waitress with dark frizzy hair chuckled. "No, you just drink too much caffeine."

"Only on frosty nights." Isolt handed Aislinn a flask. When the waitress turned her back to fill it, I received a sly wink from my girlfriend. She nodded quickly to the door, indicating it was time for me to make my exit.

"Ahem," I coughed, rising to my feet. Aislinn turned at the sound. "I'd better be on my way. Thanks for the tea."

"You're welcome. I hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice night."

I nodded, before making my way out into the street. A minute later, I was joined by Isolt.

"Sorry about dat," she smirked. "Aislinn is nice enough, but her mudder is de town gossip. If she'd gotten wind of you, my parents would know I'd been lying to dem faster dan you can say 'warp speed'."

"Would it be such a bad thing—your parents knowing about me?"

"No, but I wouldn't like dem to know I've been lying for de last couple of mont's, and I could do widout de scrutiny to be honest."

As we trekked out of town, I learned that Isolt's parents thought she was having another of her stargazing nights. The sky was clear of clouds, so the stars would be easy to see when it finally got dark, especially from the reservation, where there were no artificial lights for miles. As an astrophysicist, Isolt regularly spent nights in the park, observing the stars through her telescope. I found this pleasing, since I knew a bit about astronomy myself, having studied it at Hogwarts. Her parents didn't mind that she was out in the dark on her own, since she knew the park like the back of her hand, and knew the best and safest places to camp.

"Dis is my usual spot," she said, setting down her back pack. I gently laid her bulky telescope on the grass, and looked around. She'd brought me to a wide, flat glade half way up one of the mountains. There were the remnants of old firewood, beside a rectangular patch of grass that was a little flatter than the rest surrounding it.

"It's perfect," I concluded. We could light a fire big enough to burn a Guy, and still no one would see us, thanks to the thick wall of trees surrounding us. We hastily set up the tent, or, rather, Isolt hastily set up the tent, since I was useless at it without magic. I wondered, whilst she did this, whether it would be a waste of time. She might end up running away from me at full pelt, screaming her head off once I'd revealed my wizard status.

"Now, what is it dat you wanted to tell me?" she asked, straightening up.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it almost immediately afterwards.

Crap.

_Ok, so, you know how you said you wanted a boyfriend with magical powers … _No, too quick. _Isolt, I'm a wizard … _Too to the point. _How is a raven like a writing desk? One word: Fera Verto! _Nah … too laughable.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Ok, listen, what I'm about to tell you is going to sound … insane. There really is no easy way to say—"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Brone!" Isolt exclaimed in frustration. My nerves were clearly affecting her, and now she was starting to panic. "Would you just tell me and put me out of my misery! You're really starting to freak me out."

"Alright, alright," I said hastily, taking her hands in mine. "You know how you study science and space and what not?"

"Yeah?"

"Your studies—they're centred on logic and … and reason. Yes?"

The direction I was taking seemed to put her at ease. Her stiff posture relaxed considerably, and she nodded.

"Well, what if there were more to all this—" I waved a hand at the surrounding area, "than just biology, chemistry, and physics."

"Like God, you mean?"

I shook my head. "Not exactly. What I mean is … what if there was a supernatural element? Like magic."

Isolt's head tilted to the side in thought. For a moment, we stood in silence, but the lovely golden haired girl opposite me quickly broke it, and pulled me over to the blanket we'd set down at the tent's opening.

"I often wonder about dat myself, you know," she admitted. "Pursuing a career in space studies isn't exactly simple when you've had a Cat'lic upbringing like I have. I used to believe a person could only choose one side, as if it was some kind of war—science vs … magic. De more I t'ink about it, dough, de more I'm not so sure dat dat's de case."

"What do you mean?"

Isolt bit her lip, and then sighed. "Alright, you know how de leading t'eory amongst scientists for de creation of de universe is de 'big bang'? Well, to sum it all up, everyone is searching for somet'in' to explain how it could've happened. De problem I keep coming back to, dough, is de energy transference. Matter and energy are interchangeable. One can be born from de udder, yet you can't create eit'er from not'in'. So what started it all off?"

"You've lost me," I laughed, pulling her onto my lap. She slid her arms around my neck, whilst I twisted a lock of her magenta hair around one of my fingers.

"What I mean to say is … dat one spark of energy dat started it all off—where did it come from? Because it couldn't just have popped into existence by itself. Dat would defy science."

"Magic?" I shrugged.

"Precisely!" Isolt shot, excitedly clapping her palms against my chest. "Call it what you will, but dere's somet'in' out dere dat defies science. Some supernatural element. You could call it God if you like. Dat doesn't mean dat God is necessarily conscious, or dat it, whatever it is, is still around. Maybe it fizzled up long ago. Or maybe 'it' is an omnipotent, omniscient 'he'. I really don't know. But somewhere back down de line, I t'ink dere had to be somet'in' working outside of science dat made all dis possible."

I nodded. "I think you're right."

"Who knows," she went on, now in full-blown rant mode, "our universe might not even be de first. Maybe 'universes' are like life-forms—like plants: dey're born, dey grow, dey die, and den new universes are born from de seeds, or energy, dey leave behind?" She said this as if it was a question. "It's possible, but if you go back to de source, you still come up with de same infuriating probl—"

"I get it" I interrupted, thoroughly amused as I pressed a finger to her lips. "The supernatural is real."

She nodded, and said, "I t'ink so."

Good, I wanted to tell her. Instead, I allowed my expression to become serious, and reached over to my coat, which had been thrown over a thick, hollow log, and extracted my wand. Isolt's brow furrowed as I presented it to her, the creases deepening as she examined the wooden instrument.

"Walnut and unicorn hair. Twelve and a half inches," I murmured against her ear. Her hands stopped their caressing immediately, and she twisted in my lap to look at me, a smirk on her face.

"What?"

"This is a wand," I said, picking it from between her fingers. "It's very powerful, and potentially dangerous."

"Ah, right, yes. I forgot you're a wizard." Obviously, she thought we were pretending. Who wouldn't? I exhaled heavily, before aiming my wand at the half-burnt logs. All of a sudden, they burst into flames, casting a glowing amber circle around us.

Isolt bolted from my lap so quickly the motion sent me falling backwards. She stood with one palm pressed over her heart, her other arm wrapped defensively around her waist. Her breathing came in loud gasps, whilst she switched her gaze on me, and then back to the fire, and then back to me once again.

"H-h-how did you—how did—how did you—"

"Magic," I interrupted softly, rising to my feet. She stumbled backwards when I took a step towards her, her green eyes wide with panic. The action, though understandable, still made my stomach drop.

"No. No way. Dere's no such t'ing! Dis is a joke."

"But you just said five minutes ago—"

"I know what I said, Brone!" she shouted. Her hands flew to her scalp, where she gripped her hair by its roots. Her feet created muffled thuds against the ground as she began pacing frantically, left to right and back again, her eyes glued to the fire. "No way. No no no way."

"Isolt—"

"It was a trick or somet'in'. You're pranking me; I know it."

I shook my head and lifted my wand again, this time flicking it at the rucksack she'd slung by the tent. Isolt's jaw dropped lower with each passing second as we watched the Regatta bag drift up into the air, unaffected by the forces that should have kept it tethered to the earth.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Dis isn't possible."

I didn't contradict her. She needed time to absorb what she was seeing. I did, however, leave the rucksack suspended in mid-air, so that the proof would remain right there before her eyes.

Predictably, when the ability to move her legs finally returned to her, she approached the anomaly, and checked it on all sides, waving her hands over the surface to make sure there were no trick supports. When her hands dropped to her side, she looked like an adult would upon discovering Father Christmas actually does exist. Disbelief preceded shock, which slowly gave way to excited joy.

"Hooooly Ewok." Hope fluttered inside me as a slow grin crept its way onto her face. She pointed giddily at the rucksack, her chest speedily rising and falling. "How?"

I shrugged. "The supernatural and science are two separate things, right? They work outside of each other. Isn't that sort of the point?"

"Yeah but … but how! I mean … how!"

I slowly approached her, relieved when she didn't recoil. "I don't really know. Magic has always been a part of my family."

I held out my hand to her. She took it, and allowed me to pull her back down onto the blanket; or, at least, she did after completing a running circuit around the glade, one involving lots of 'oh my gods' and high frequency squealing. The forest bats would probably be thinking a member of their colony had gone astray.

Isolt listened in wonder as I relayed my personal history, firing questions every now and then when her excitement became too much to contain. I was especially pleased when she asked me about dragons, wearing an expression of childlike euphoria all the while. By the time I finally finished talking, the moon was high in the velvety black sky, which was embedded with a thousand tiny points of twinkling light.

The pair of us were laid out on the blanket by the fire, like the two hands of a clock reading six, our heads side by side as we gazed up at the heavens.

"So you're a wizard," she murmured in a lazy voice, very nearly successful in her attempt at casualness. Her accelerated breathing gave her away, though, and the memory of her delighted squealing was still fresh in my mind.

"Yeah," I chuckled.

"And you were born on Earth? You're not an alien from de next galaxy or anyt'in'?"

"As much as I know you'd like that to be true, no. I'm one hundred percent earthling."

"Drat. Oh, well, never mind. Dis is still by far de most amazing, incredible, mind-bogglingly fantastic moment of my life, regardless! Show me more magic. I want to see!"

Until quarter to one in the morning, I performed for Isolt. I conjured rose after rose, until she had a full bouquet of scarlet flowers. I created a patch of anti-gravity mist for her to stand in; with her passion for physics, that one totally blew her mind. She didn't believe me at first when I told her the world was still the right way up. The only time my girlfriend ever displayed signs of doubt and concern was when I showed her my animal form. I was one of the few wizards that had mastered the skill before leaving school, successfully having transformed myself into an Alsation one evening as I practised in the common room. With the metamorphosis came dozens of canine instincts. I wanted nothing more than to protect the fragile girl I had come to adore—the girl whose sweet, strawberry-jasmine scent flared and swirled in my nostrils.

When the time reached half past two, Isolt entwined my hand with hers, and pulled me towards the tent. I had a better idea though, and conjured a king-sized mattress, along with a duvet. The sky was too beautiful to ignore, and Isolt deserved to sleep beneath it—the blue, red, and white light of the distant suns the last thing she saw before her eyes closed; that way, she could dream about the million possibilities for magic in galaxies far far away, where the Jedi lived.

The night air was deeply chilly despite the camp-fire, so I performed a thermal charm to keep us warm. Isolt beckoned me under the thick cover once I'd finished, lifting it in welcome. I slid in beside her, immensely content when I felt her shuffle into my embrace.

"Your feet are like ice," I smiled happily. Why this pleased me so much, I had no idea. Perhaps I was just relieved that she still wanted me close enough that I could feel them.

"And yours are hot and sweaty."

"They smell really bad too." She giggled at this. "It's true."

"I don't doubt you." I lightly swatted her arm, causing her to giggle some more. "Brone?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Can anyone use magic?" My eyes snapped open in an instant. I knew I had to tell Isolt the truth, but that would mean disappointing her. Also, I was afraid my mother's prediction would come true, and I didn't want my girlfriend to develop a complex. To me, we were equals; different, granted, but still equals. I was magic; Isolt was science. There were things I could do that would always be beyond her, but, at the same time, she possessed a knowledge and understanding that I had never encountered before. In the wizarding world, it wasn't necessary to understand the complex make-up of the universe. No one ever questioned the same things that Muggles did. Our field was the supernatural, so we only bothered to learn the most basic rules of biology, chemistry and physics, those which enabled us to go about our day-to-day lives.

"No, it's something you're born with."

"I figured as much," she answered, a hint of regret audible in her tone.

"Don't let it get you down," I encouraged softly, gently stroking her cheek. Her eyes closed automatically at my touch. "I have enough magic for the both of us."

"Good. You'll never get rid of me den."

_Please. A very big please._

"Is that all you want me for?"

"Not at all, but it's certainly a perk."

"Alright, magic thief." I cut off her pending retort with a heated kiss, to which she responded with enthusiasm, running her tongue along my lower lip.

The hairs on my arms bristled as Isolt's fingers brushed my bare chest. She was wearing a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt. I, on the other hand, after apparating back to my cottage, had retrieved a pair of comfortable shorts. Our little bubble of warmth was no place for multiple layers, so I had even discarded my shirt to balance out the temperature. There was no sound that I could hear, save for our nervous breathing, and the occasional hooting of a nearby owl.

My fingers brushed the exposed skin of Isolt's hip where her shirt had ridden up. She shivered at the contact and gripped me tighter. I gulped, cringing immediately afterwards, because the noise seemed so loud in my ears. This wasn't exactly the first time I'd been an intimate position with a woman, so why did my heart suddenly feel as if it was about to burst through my chest? Oh, yeah—because this was the first time I'd been in—

"I love you," Isolt whispered abruptly. I inhaled with a sharp gasp. For a moment, my pulse surged, thundering loudly in my ears, making it impossible to ignore. Not long after, however, it steadied into a peaceful rhythm. The feeling those three words sparked was indescribable: it swelled from the tips of my toes, up through every cell in my body, until I was a vessel of euphoria.

"I love you too," I whispered back, kissing her hair. I was surprised when I realised I'd never told her this before. Isolt was all I ever though about any more. The minute I left her, I was counting down the hours until I would next see her again. Everything about her entranced me, her sea green eyes especially. They were so full of life.

Without warning, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and discarded it on the grass.

"What are you doing?" I questioned immediately. I barely just resisted the tempting urge to lower my gaze. She didn't respond with words; instead, she pressed herself closer to me, tracing patterns over my skin until she reached my spine. "Isolt—"

"Ssh," she soothed. The smell of her breath as it blew gently onto my face was hypnotising. My argument began to dissolve in my head, but I was swiftly brought back to reality when I felt her cool, willowy fingers on the waistband of my shorts.

"Wait, Isolt. What are you doing?"

"What's de matter? Don't you want to?" she asked, her expression tinged with hurt.

"What? No, it's not … I mean, of course I want to. It's just … I don't want you to do anything you'll regret." I closed my eyes and shook my head. My thoughts had suddenly been sent into a whirlwind. I could barely get a hold on them. "You're … well, you're …"

"Cat'lic?" she offered. I nodded sheepishly.

"Don't you want to wait?"

She laughed a low, delicious laugh, before planting a kiss on my collarbone. When she next looked up, her expression held nothing but tenderness and trust. "Dat's de perk of being a scientist in a religious community. I know de rules I'm supposed to follow, but, right now, dey don't fit wid my logic."

"Which is?"

She smiled. "I don't need a priest or a signed piece of paper to know dat I love you. I don't want anyone else."

"Me neither," I whispered.

"So why should we hesitate? Life is too short. I don't want to let it pass me by and regret it later, just because I decided I should follow de rules."

I couldn't find it in myself to contest her wishes any further. As she'd already pointed out, Isolt dealt with reason, and right then, laid out in the glade beneath the diamond-studded night, her iron logic was too convincing to question.

A tickle at my nose woke me in the morning. I tried to bat away whatever if was causing the tingle, but my hand brushed against something soft and silky. When my eyes cracked open, I realised it was a lock of golden hair. It brushed against my skin each time I inhaled. Only when I heard a low musical chuckle did I remember where I was and what I was doing here.

My head was resting against Isolt's chest. My left arm and thigh was draped over her supple body, but I saw nothing in her expression to indicate discomfort.

"Morning," she greeted. Her grin was infectious.

"Hello." Suddenly, the air filled with the sound of her laughter. This confused me. "What?"

"Not'in'. You have bed-head, dat's all, and you sleep funny."

I rolled my eyes and flattened my messy hair. "Sleep funny?"

"Dis is a king-sized mattress," she reminded me, "yet you practically slept on top of me."

"Mm, but you're really comfy." I nestled my head back down against her chest, shutting my eyes once more. "Besides, I kind of got the impression last night that you like it when I'm on top."

She swatted my arm at my cocky comment. I chuckled and held her tighter, which she seemed to enjoy. Slowly but surely, memories from the previous night began to come back to me. If I'd had any idea before hand that everything would turn out so perfectly, I wouldn't have wasted so much time worrying. Our clothes were scattered around us. I had no present desire to get dressed, and I certainly wasn't about to allow Isolt to do so. That would be criminal.

"You don't regret last night, do you?" she asked suddenly.

"Not a bit. Do you?"

"No, it was everything I''d hope for."

I grinned. "I knew you'd imagined me naked."

"As if you can say any different."

"Of course not. I imagine me naked all the time," I teased. She giggled.

"You're such a goof."

"You're a geek."

"Jerk."

"Dork." Our exchange was good natured and playful, as always, progressing until we ran out of comebacks, and had to find something else to do to occupy our lips.

Two hours later, I set about packing up Isolt's things. It was a lot quicker than it had been to set it all up, since we didn't have to do it manually. She watched in awe as I performed the various charms. It pleased me that I could impress her so easily.

"Do you want to come back with me today? My parents are dying to meet you," I told her once I'd finished. She froze in an instant.

"Your parents?"

I nodded.

"I'm not sure," she said, biting her lip. "Isn't your village in de opposite direction to mine? My parents will start to fret if I'm not back in a couple of hours."

"Don't worry about that. I can have you back in the blink of an eye."

"Seriously?" she gawked.

"Seriously. We could go drop your stuff off if you like, and then jump over to my village."

"And dere'll be more magic?"

I laughed and nodded. "As much as you want."

"Alright den!" She bounded over to me so quickly I flinched. I guess she really was excitable when it came to the supernatural.

"You might find this a little nauseating the first time," I warned, taking her hands in mine. She smiled cheerfully, undettered. I apparated us to a spot just outside of town. Isolt gasped upon our arrival, and bent over to clutch her knees, in need of the support. Despite the dizziness subsequent to the spacial travel, the experience made her joyfully hyper, and she began excitedly sorting through various equations and theories that could potentially be applied to apparition.

Whilst she returned home to check in with her parents, I paid another visit to the flower covered café, where I purchased two scones to take away, one for me, and one for Isolt. We ate them on our walk out of town, and sat in the farmer's meadow just beyond the border to finish them, before apparating to Gleannrún.

We appeared just outside my parent's house. Isolt immediately made a comment on the picturesque setting. I gave her a minute to take in the purple mountain dominating the landscape, and the small clusters of white-wash cottages surrounding the square.

"It's beautiful," she said as I opened the gate for her.

"I know. Be sure to mention that to my mum, and tell her she has a nice garden."

We both braced ourselves as I knocked on the door. Someone began fumbling with the locks on the other side. A second later, it opened, and there stood my mother. Her eyes initially landed on me, before shifting to the girl at my side. One deep breath later …

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HOLY HIPPOGRIFF! TOMAS! TOMAS!"

"What in de blue blazes is it, woman!" My father appeared behind her. She excitedly wagged a finger in my girlfriend's direction.

"Look! He's brought her! Brone's brought Isolt!"

Lifting his spectacles to his eyes, my dad squinted at us until the recognition registered on his face. "Well, why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"

My mother shot out behind us more swiftly than a cobra, and pushed the two of us over the threshold. When we were all in the sitting area, she circled Isolt like a grinning vulture. She seemed thrilled with the girl before her, and cried, "Oh, she's perfect! You're perfect, dear!"

"Um, thank you," Isolt answered bashfully. "You … er … you have a really lovely home."

Now it was my mother's turn to blush. "Oh! Did you hear dat, Tomas? Isolt likes our house."

"I did hear, Bríghid."

"And I love your garden. It's very pretty."

"Tomas, hey, Tomas! Did ya hear?"

"Yes, Bríghid."

"She likes our garden! Oh, yes, I have a very good feeling about dis. Oh! I t'ink I need a cupper! I'll put de kettle on! Would you like some tea, Isolt?"

"Um—"

"Nonsense, woman! Now's no time for tea," my dad clapped, jumping from his chair. "Let's open a bottle and celebrate!"

"Oh, of course. Why didn't I t'ink o' dat?"

"Would you like a glass of wine, Isolt?"

"Oh, um, sure. I'd love one."

"Excellent!" He toddled cheerfully out of the room, and into the kitchen. I heard the cellar door open, and my father's footsteps as he hurried down the wooden staircase. Isolt, meanwhile, had just had her attention captured by the magical instrument in the corner of the room.

"Ah, dat's our globe," my mum told her. "Come on, I'll show you."

The world globe was one of my parents' more recent purchases, unlike the other items occupying their house, many of which were older than I was. They'd bought it when I'd first told them I would be enrolling on the L.I.Z.A.R.D programme. The sphere was supported by the intricately carved mahogany figure of a well muscled man, naked save for the cloth hanging from around his hips. He was crouched on his knees, head bent and arms stretching out on either side of him, grasping the silver meridian ring, the weight of which rested fully across his shoulder blades.

"Atlas."

"De titan who holds up de world," Isolt murmured appreciatively.

"You know your myt'ology."

"I only know certain stories—the ones involving de stars and space." Her eyes trailed up from the wooden sculpture to the globe itself. The seas were represented in a chalky shade, whilst the land was coloured in different tones of brown and honey. The most interesting thing about the piece, however, was not the base or the sphere; it was the various needles attached to the surface, all of which had small button-shaped heads displaying little pictures. Three of these needles were all protruding from precisely the same spot in Donegal.

"Dey have your faces on dem," said Isolt, turning to look at me.

I nodded and smiled. "The needles move in line with the person they represent. If I flew to Switzerland right now, the one with my face on would move. Here, I'll show you." I disapparated from the room, selecting a random location, before apparating back ten seconds later.

"Londonderry! You were just in Derry!" Isolt cried excitedly, her attention shifting from the globe to me, and then back again. "Wow! Dis is amazing!"

"Hear dat, Brone? She likes our globe!" my mum smiled.

"Yeah, I heard."

"Amazing," Isolt said again.

I rolled my eyes. "It might seem that way at first, but then you realise you could go anywhere in the world and you'll never ever be able to escape your mum and dad." That comment earned me a hard swat to my arm from my mother, who clucked in irritation. "Just kidding, Mam."

"You'd better be."

Dad re-entered the room then, carrying a bottle of his vintage sauvignon blanc. Within half an hour, we'd polished it off. In that time, Isolt told them all about her course and ambitions. They listened with polite interest, even though they understood less than half of what she was telling them. They also inquired as to what she thought about my revelation, to which she replied with much enthusiasm.

"Oh, I'm so glad it's all worked out," I heard my mum say as she ushered the girl out into the garden. "Brone talks about you all de time, you know."

I choked on my drink and that, before spluttering, "I told you about her just two days ago, woman!"

"Take no notice," she urged. "Tomas and I might only have found out on Friday, but once de cat was out, it was 'Isolt dis' and 'Isolt dat.'"

Later, whilst I was leading her over to my cottage, she said, "I really like your parents. Dey're great."

"Ever so slightly embarrassing, but, yeah, they're nice people."

"I was worried at first—"

"Especially when you almost got smothered on the doorstep, right?"

She rolled her eyes, but grinned despite herself. "As I was saying, I was worried at first. I was scared dey wouldn't like me."

"Why?"

"Well," she shrugged, "I'm not like you, am I?"

I pulled her to a stop immediately. She stared down at my hand in puzzlement, before her wide, confused eyes darted to my exasperated face. "How many times will I have to tell you this before you believe it?" I asked, stepping forwards, until I towered over her. "You don't have to worry about that. I love you. My parents adore you. That's all that matters."

The radiant smile my words produced gave me a massive surge of relief. With enough repetition, I would hopefully be able to completely put Isolt's fears to rest. We resumed our walk towards my home, our arms swinging between us, only to be interrupted by a sudden call.

"Brone! Hey, Brone!" We turned to see a group of pristine, over-polished girls sashaying towards us. The sight of Eithne Kane, Áine Gallagher, and Órlaith Foley set me cringing. I wanted to be as far away from the hair-tossing, hip wiggling bunch as possible. Orlaith's strut was visibly different to that of the other two. It was unique, confident, and intentionally understated; something about it irritated me. The girl herself was so completely aloof to anyone outside her immediate bunch of friends that I decided she was probably the worst of the lot.

"Um, hi," I answered awkwardly, shifting my weight.

"We haven't seen you in a while," Eithne commented. "Fancy coming wid us down to de river. We're meeting Bradan Rippley and Fionn Monahan. We need anudder man to complete de group."

I felt Isolt stiffen at my side. "Ahem. Excuse me." The girls looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Am I invisible or somet'in'?"

I had to grin at my sassy girlfriend. She was absolutely brilliant.

"And who are you?" Eithne questioned, looking her up and down. She arched an eyebrow derisively as she took in the girl's colourful Doc Martens, and her David Bowie shirt.

"Isolt Nora Fitzpatrick. I'm Brone's girlfriend."

Áine scoffed. "Dat's what every girl in Gleannrún t'ought, before he moved onto de next one."

"Well, then, all the girls in Gleannrún are either stupid or deluded, aren't they," I pointed out, angered by the witch's mocking attitude, "since a few hours doesn't constitute as a long enough period to gain that status. There's something definitely wrong if a woman thinks she's seeing a man when they've only had dinner once in the company of their parents. Wouldn't you say so Áine?"

Áine's expression turned icy in an instant. "Indeed."

"Never mind dat. I want to hear about you, Isolt," Eithne said sweetly. A little too sweetly. "You don't look like you're from around here."

"I'm not." Eithne smirked triumphantly when the girl confirmed her suspicions, and told the others of the town she'd been raised in.

"Interesting. No wonder Brone couldn't find what he was looking for here. All dis time, he's been after a Muggle."

Áine sneered, whilst Orlaith rolled her eyes snootily, her posture straightening with the superiority she suddenly believed she possessed.

"And what's wrong with being a Muggle?"

"Oh, come on, sweetie," Eithne said coldly. "That's like a donkey asking a stallion 'what's wrong wid being an ass?'"

"That's enough, Eithne!" I snapped when Isolt flinched.

"She has a point," Orlaith said offhandedly, examining her nails. My jaw snapped shut as I ground my teeth together. A quick glance in Isolt's direction told me the comment had stung her like a slap to the face.

"Come on," I murmured, sliding an arm around her waist. "Let's go. They're not wor—"

"Just a minute, Brone," she interrupted, slipping out of my grasp. And then she did something I never would've expected. "Let me tell you sometin' about Muggles. We might not be able to turn needles into matchsticks, or conjure furniture from t'in air, but I wouldn't get complacent if I were you. When magic isn't an option, you find alternative met'ods of doing t'ings—t'rough experimentation. De more we experiment, de more we learn, and de greater understanding we gain of science and—."

"Science," Orlaith sniggered. "Ah, yes, Muggles are big on dat, aren't dey? Ovens and microwaves—what an accomplishment."

"I was t'inking more along de lines of nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons powerful enough to destroy hundreds of t'ousands actually," Isolt whispered. There was an air of menace about her as she took another step forwards. Orlaith's sneer faded in an instant. "Now, I'm not going to waste my time trying to explain de complex science behind such mechanisms, or how one little Muggle bomb smaller dan me could cause so much devastation, since dere's clearly no way you girls have de brain capacity to understand dat, but de next time you t'ink to insult Muggles, or decide dat ya have somet'in' on us, just stop for a moment and remember which race has dere finger on de trigger."

I felt more than a little proud as I watched Isolt stand up to the three witches. She was certainly a force to be reckoned with. The girls were gawking like they didn't know what had hit them, and she hadn't even finished yet.

"I know t'ings about de universe," she smirked, "dat you couldn't possibly begin to imagine—t'ings dat happened millions of years ago, t'ings about de present, and t'ings dat'll happen in de future—like de sun expanding, tanks to de hydrogen burning at its core, to de point where its radius will be enough to envelop de eart'.

"No, us Muggles don't have special powers, but we always find a way to achieve our ends, regardless. I wonder what dat says about our intellect, and what it says about yours. When you find a way to make somet'in' fly, or put a man on de moon widout your magic, come and speak to me. For now, dough, why don't you run along and play wid your wands? Go turn matchsticks into needles or somet'in', and leave de big stuff to de folk who actually use dere brains, since we have no magical alternative."

Isolt then turned her back on the four and grabbed my hand. "Come on, Brone. Let's get out of here."

"Whatever you say." We left the enraged group of witches behind us. The moment we were through the door, I had Isolt pressed up against the wall.

"Brilliant. You. Are. Brilliant."

"Than—mmm." I loved that I had this effect on her—that I could destroy her thought process more and more with each fiery kiss I placed on her neck. She clawed at my clothes as I continued my trail. "Mmm ... Brone?"

"Yeah?"

"You know … mmm … I … when I … said all dat stuff?" she murmured breathlessly, "I didn't … I didn't—mmm—mean dat … dat I was … better or … smarter dan you."

"But you are smarter than me," I answered easily, unbuttoning her jeans.

"No … just better at different things, and … you're better at others."

I pulled her arms up into the air, before tugging her tee over her head. "Now you're getting it."

In more ways than one.

When the time came for Isolt's move to Dublin, she worried that the distance would make a difference to how much we saw one another. Then, of course, I reminded her that distance wasn't really an issue.

And it wasn't.

I saw her every night after finishing up at the Welsh reservation. I'd apparate back home for a bath, and then I'd pop on down to Dublin. She was living with two other girls, all studying for their PhD. One specialised in biomedical science—Darcy O'Shea, a tall statuesque girl with red poker straight hair, a blunt fringe, and bright blue eyes; the other specialised in chemistry—Sinead McKenna, a small thin girl with black ringlets and dark brown eyes. I got on well with both; they were amiable and bubbly, just like Isolt. It pleased me that she'd been put with people she clicked with.

I had to tell Darcy and Sinead that I lived in the city, since there was no way I'd be able to get down there every night from Donegal. A lot of the time, Isolt and I didn't have time to do much. She had heaps of research to get through, all leading up to a massive thesis, so when I visited, we were normally cooped up in her room, her perched over her desk, her fingers drumming against her desktop computer, whilst I lazed out on her bed, reading books written by Muggles. Still, it was enough just to be with her, and made it all the better whenever she had the day off.

I slept at her house a lot during the academic year, whilst she spent the summer at my cottage, where she continued her research. We came to this arrangement only because I told her I'd apparate her back to the university or its library whenever she needed to pay a visit, which was pretty much everyday. If I was at work, my dad took her instead. We both enjoyed the privacy though. On top of that, I enjoyed looking after her.

"You need a break," I said one night in July, the second summer into her course. It was hard to believe that we'd been together so long, and that I was still as amazed by her as I'd been the first time I told her I loved her.

"Argh! Can't stop now. Gotta get dis paragraph finished."

"That's what you said on the last one." Her hair was wild, and she had little bags under her eyes. Because there was no electric in the village, I'd bought her a typewriter. The buttons clicked madly over and over, and every few seconds, I would hear a little annoying 'ping'. I made a snap decision and jumped up from the couch, immediately proceeding to yank the girl away and sling her over my shoulder.

"Hey—wha—Brone, put me down! I need to get dis done!"

"You can start up again in half an hour."

"Gah!"

"Right now, woman" I told her, carrying her up the stairs, "you're going to shut up and let me help you unwind."

"You bloody pillock, put me down right now!"

"You see what the stress is doing to you? It's putting you into a terrible mood."

She beat her palms against my back. "Grr!"

"Precisely." In the next few seconds, I had her in my bedroom, and threw her down onto the mattress. Before she could jump up and march away, I pulled my wand from my pocket and shot ropes at her wrists and ankles, restraining her.

"Wha—argh! Dis is so unfair! I'm going to—"

"You're not really in a position to do anything right now," I pointed out, crouching over her. She complained when I rolled her onto her front, making death threats at one point, and continued to grumble as I began to massage the knots out of her back. She was as stiff as a board. After about a minute, her complaints subsided, and were replaced with quiet moans.

"You know, Isolt, there are spells that would do a far better job of this type of thing than any living masseur."

"There are?" she murmured against the pillow.

"Mm-hmm. There are spells for everything: ones that cause the most excruciating pain, and ones that do the opposite."

"You mean … ones for … for—"

"Pleasure."

She laughed low and throatily. "Did you learn about dose at school?"

"No," I smiled. "inappropriate material never made the curriculum unfortunately, but there wasn't a boy there by N.E.W.T. level who didn't know the charms."

"Mmm … so if you were all so excited about dese spells, why'd you take so long to tell me about dem?"

"Because I realised quickly that the old fashioned way was better."

"You mean it boosted your ego more to do it widout magic." Her assumption made me chuckle. She was spot on. I continued to massage along her spine, and let the bait sit. "So these charms ..."

He he.

"Dey sound intriguing."

"Would you care to … experiment?"

"What kind of scientist would I be if I declined?"

Oh, man, this was going to be awesome: my adolescent fantasies brought to life with the girl I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with. That last thought stopped me dead. Isolt's eyes flickered open at my hesitation.

"Brone?"

An abrupt vision exploded through my mind, images that caused warmth to spark in my chest. I felt my breathing accelerate as I was struck by a sudden concept, lovely in its nature, yet as powerful and unconquerable as a terminal disease.

"Brone?"

"Huh?" I blinked down at Isolt, who was staring over her shoulder at me, concern clear on her face. "Oh, sorry, I was just … imagining."

A warm smile gradually swept her face. I reached for my wand, grinning when I touched it's tip to the nape of her neck.

"I'll start off small," I said. The moment she nodded in agreement, I performed the incantation. A small moan escaped her lips, and her whole body relaxed.

"Woah," she slurred, "dat feels incredible."

"Like you're receiving the world's best massage, right?"

"Mm-hmm. How long will it last?" Her voice was slow and lazy, and I began to trail my wand in a zig-zag pattern down her back, muttering the charm every few seconds.

"As long as I want it to." I didn't pause until I reached her toes, at which point I moved back up and along each arm, finishing finally with her scalp. Every now and then, she'd release a blissful sigh. I left her on the bed then, and went to prepare things for the rest of the evening. I closed the curtains in every room, lit soothing and fragrant incense, along with dozens of tiny candles, and ran a hot bath, remembering to charm the water so that it wouldn't cool. I also decided to soundproof the house. If I hadn't, every inhabitant of the village would quickly realise I was transforming my home into a sensory heaven.

Upon returning to the bedroom, I dissolved the ropes around Isolt's wrists and ankles, before peeling away her clothes. Her body, by this point, was like jelly. Carefully, I rolled her onto her back. Her hair was fanned out like a golden halo around her crown. She looked heavenly, all creamy skin and soft, willowy limbs.

"God, I love you," she breathed.

I smiled and bent to kiss her, before telling her the same. I would spend all night showing her just how much. I'd worship her until she forgot the title of her thesis … until she forgot her thesis altogether.

And that's precisely what I did. I left the massage charms running whilst I worked. Before I started with the bigger spells, I spent at least an extra fifteen minutes exploring every inch of skin, and then an additional ten squeezing warm water over her body to heighten the sensations surging through her, and further relax her muscles (if that was even possible).

"I t'ink I'm in heaven," she sighed. "Dis is heaven."

I traced the tip of my wand down over her shoulder, pulling it down past her chest and abdomen. Fixing my next spell firmly in mind, I said, "No … you're only half way."

But not for long.

"You look blissed out," I told her later. We were in the bath; Isolt was positioned before me, leaning back against my chest. I lazily traced patterns along her collarbone, whilst her fingers played at my knees.

"Dat's because I am," she sighed.

"Will you be requiring similar service on a more frequent basis?"

She chuckled. "De massage charm, definitely; your ot'er spell, however, I t'ink I'm going to have to limit myself to. I'll need a month just to recover, and, after dis, it'll probably take an extra two or t'ree for my stress to escalate back to de level it was at earlier.

"Perhaps 'de Doctor' would be a good nickname for you after all."

And just like that, the idea I'd had earlier popped back to the forefront of my mind, only this time, I knew the precise way in which I would bring it to fruition.

Everything was set. It had taken me a long time to put it together, and even after I'd finished, I delayed my plan until after Isolt had wrapped up her thesis. She'd told me on numerous occasions how wonderful it was to have access to the Floo network when you were working on your Ph.D. It allowed her to visit the various research centres for astronomy scattered throughout the world, and she was able to meet dozens of accredited professors, most of whom were polite enough to speak into the dictaphone she carried, and answer her questions. She didn't have to limit her stargazing simply to Ireland either, and spent many nights in foreign countries, where she took dozens of pictures through the expensive telescope loaned to her by Dublin university.

The comity she presented her thesis to was beyond impressed, and she emerged from the UCD 'Doctor Isolt Nora Fitzpatrick'. We'd just returned from her graduation ceremony. My dad had spent the majority of it trying not to fall asleep. I had to elbow his ribs when it was Isolt's turn to take to the stage. He'd spluttered and blinked a lot, right before he shot to his feet with mum and I, clapping and cheering his head off.

Afterwards, we spent the evening with Isolt and her parents. They didn't know I was a wizard. Their daughter had told them I was a reptile specialist, just as I had told her once upon a time. At half six, Mr and Mrs Fitzpatrick left us, and set off back on their journey to Donegal in their Volks Vagen, whilst the rest of us apparated to Gleannrún, where we drank champagne in my parents' living room. All our needles were pointed to the same place on the globe. My parents had made one for Isolt not long after I'd first introduced her to them.

An hour following our return, I excused myself to go and change out of my grey suit, into something a little more … interesting. My dad grinned when I rejoined them. He was in on my plan, and had help me bring it all together.

Isolt did a double take when she saw me, her eyes widening as she took in my peculiar wardrobe. I was wearing a clean white button down and a taupe silk tie, which I'd combined with a black waist-length leather jacket. Below those were a pair of black corduroy trousers and dark brown lace-up boots. To top it all off, there was the Indy hat, of course, an item essential for any adventurer.

"Ready to go?" I asked the girl.

"G-go?" she responded, completely gob-smacked. "Go where?"

I rolled my eyes and laced my hand with hers. "That would be spoiling the surprise."

I received an excited thumbs up from my parents as I pulled Isolt from their home. I was too eager to slow my pace, and within the next minute, I was leading the girl up into the tiny attic at the top of the cottage.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" she whined.

"No."

"Aww, but I want to know what's going on."

"You will in just a second." I ignored her grumbling, and positioned her body so that she was directly facing her surprise. Then, moving so that I had the perfect view of her face, I said, "Aaaand … open!"

Initially, Isolt blinked in shock, before a wide grin spread across her face. The room filled with the sound of her peeling laughter, and she clapped her hands together in satisfaction.

"A Tardis! You bought me a Tardis!"

"I built it actually. Dad helped." This only seemed to heighten her pleasure. She circled the blue police box with a childlike fascination, running her hands over the wooden panels of the life-sized replica.

"Wow … it looks exactly right," She turned her eyes on me then, and I could almost discern the light-bulb materialising above her head. "Ah, so dis is your new outfit, Doctor?"

"That would be correct. I figured that since we're supposed to be equals, and you're now a Doctor, it would only be proper for me to earn that status too."

"So I'm your apprentice?" she giggled.

"That you are." I approached the Tardis then, and slid a key from my pocket. Her hand shot out to grab mine as I reached for the lock. "What's wrong?" I questioned, unprepared for the sudden movement.

Her eyes were wide and incredulous. "Don't open it!"

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because if you do, I won't be able to pretend dis t'ing actually contains anudder dimension. It'll just be a blue box and you'll ruin de magic!"

It was almost impossible not to smirk at her panic. She really did think it was just a blue-box. Pfft! Surely she knew by now that I had more style than that. I never did things by halves. My lips twitched as I took in her expression, and I had to turn my eyes away or I would've burst into hysterics. The light above the Tardis was flashing brightly, beckoning me inside.

"Sorry to disappoint you, darlin'," I murmured gruffly, stepping fully now into my new persona, "but you're just going to have to live with the reality of the situation." Suddenly, I slammed the key into the lock, and turned it until it clicked.

Rainbow light spilled out as I pushed the door open, revealing what should've been an impossible interior. Isolt's mouth very nearly hit the floor. Her eyes bulged to such an extent that I thought they'd pop out of their sockets. She stood on the threshold, unable to align her logic with the sight directly before her.

"Oh my—oh my—OH MY GOD IT'S A TARDIS!" She launched inside at warp speed, dashing up the steel staircase and up to the console, which she circled four times in less than ten seconds. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! OOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!"

I boomed with laughter from the doorway, doubling over at the sight of her as she explored each inch of mine and my father's creation. It had taken us over a year to complete. First we had to build the exterior. That only took a few weeks, but then there were the complicated spells to master that would enable us to fill the box with wizard space. The Tardis had seven floors, three above the ground floor, and three below. The walls of the main chamber were made from black metal plates, which I'd had embedded with hundreds of crystals. They were charmed to glow whenever a human walked into the room, or if the front door was left open. Their were three corridors leading off to other areas. I could see from Isolt's expression that she wanted to bolt down each one, but was torn as to which one to take first.

"OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH! AAAAAAAAH! WHICH ONE!" I laughed some more as she chewed her nails in deliberation, gripping my stomach when she flashed away down the middle passage. No matter how much distance she put between us, there was never a point when her screams were quiet enough that I couldn't hear them.

"A LIBRARY! IT HAS A LIBRARY! AND IT'S FRICKIN' HUGE!" her voice echoed up from the basement. "A SWIMMING POOL! OH MY GOD DERE'S A SWIMMING POOL! NEXT TO DE LIBRARY! AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"I take it you like it?" I said when she returned. She looked completely stunned, and had tears rolling down her face.

"How did you do dis?"she whispered, wiping her cheeks with the back of her white sleeve.

I shrugged. "Magic."

She shook her head. "It really isn't bound by science is it?"

"Not one bit."

"Incredible!"

I let her stare on in wonder for a few more minutes, and then I marched determinedly up to her, not stopping until I could feel the warmth of her breath washing against my face. I had to do it now. The little lump in my pocket felt as if it would burn a whole through the fabric otherwise. Carefully, I extracted the little blue box, holding it out in front of me for Isolt to see. She froze at the sight of it, unable to tear her sparkling green eyes away.

"Isolt?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to forget how to do so. I took advantage of her silence and made my move.

"There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time now, only, I thought it would be better to wait until after you graduated." I couldn't remember ever being this nervous, and had to inhale a deep breath to calm myself. "Ever since I watched you take on that goat in Glenveagh, I've seen no one else. That was a pivotal moment in my life; before it, everything was fine, but not extraordinary."

Isolt gasped as her eyes refilled with moisture. She tried to blink back the tears, but failed. I took encouragement from that.

"I'm a wizard. Magic is a ruling feature in my life, and a massive part of who I am. For a long time, I didn't think I needed the science dominating the Muggle world. But now, if I had to go without seeing that goofy smile whenever they're showing a sci-fi on tv, or if I couldn't watch you get sleepless with excitement the week before each space convention, I think I'd fall apart, and everything would stop making sense."

I flicked the box open then, revealing the ring inside. The band was made from goblin silver. It had two diamonds on either side of a larger centre sapphire, which was smooth and oval in shape, the colour as a blue as the night sky. I pulled it carefully from the box and took a deep breath, before getting down on one knee.

"You told me once that the universe needs science and magic, and you were right. I could comb the wizarding world a million times over, and no witch would ever be enough for me, because none of them could bring to my life anything I don't already have. I know what I want, and nothing short of a goat vanquishing astrophysicist with a pencant for blue boxes will do."

I took her hands in one of mine, presenting the sapphire ring to her with the other. Both of us were grinning now. She was crying freely and unashamedly.

"Doctor Isolt Nora Fitzpatrick," I said, "will you marry me?"

Glistening tears fell over her widely stretched lips, and with an expression of pure joy, she answered, "I will."

The wedding took six months to put together. My ecstatic mother helped Isolt to organise everything, from the invites to the dress, and thank heavens she did, because I would've been useless.

When my fiancée asked me what I thought of orange flowers, I shrugged and said, "Yeah, they're nice." For some reason, this displeased her, and she stormed off in a huff, leaving me behind to try and figure out what I'd said wrong.

Because the ceremony would involve the clashing of the magical and non-magical community, we had decided to have a normal Catholic wedding, since I didn't want to fall out with my in-laws-to-be. The attending witches and wizards had all been asked to avoid discussing magic related issues or spell performing. I didn't doubt that there'd be a few slips, but it would all be easy enough to fix, regardless.

Aislinn, the girl from the café, and Isolt's two housemates from Dublin would be the bridesmaids. Kingsley Shacklebolt had agreed to be my best man. We'd been friends for years, even though our interests took us in different directions after we left school.

He and my father organised my stag night, which took place in a big pub in Londonderry two nights before I was due to tie the knot. I know it was traditional to get leathered the night before, but I didn't want to say 'I do' with a splitting headache. Isolt, too, was celebrating. She, my mother, and her friends were out in their pink feather bowers and fancy dress. I hoped she was having fun. The thought of my drunken mother had me chuckling into my Guiness.

The night involved lots of singing, and ended with me getting tied to a lampost, having my wand stolen, and being stripped down to my birthday suit by my cackling so-called buddies. I was too wasted to put up a fight, and slumped to the ground, where I fell asleep. The cold should have made that impossible, but I had a very thick 'beer-coat'.

I woke up two hours later. I was nowhere near sober, but I had a better idea of what I was doing. Apparating was extremely difficult because the cuffs restricted my movement. In the end, I somehow managed to accomplish it by swinging myself round the lamp post in a poll-dancing fashion. My problems, however, didn't stop there, for I ended up in Isolt's bedroom, stood with my legs apart right on her bed … totally starkers … wearing handcuffs … whilst she stared up wide-eyed from beneath me.

God, I had an awkward time talking my way out of that one. What was worse was that the cold had seriously injured my ego.

"Errr … I can esplain."

"I sure hope so."

"I go' tied dup …"

"By whom, might I ask?"

"By … err … by loz of men … to a … a lam-pos', 'n' dey lef' me."

Isolt chuckled nervously, still staring up at me from beneath. "Classic move."

"'N' now … now I'm stuck in 'ese." I wagged the cuffs at her. "'N' I go' no clothes. 'N' iz cold."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it," she grumbled, pulling the duvet tighter around herself. "It's dat damn wind!"

"Huh?"

Isolt nodded to the arched window on the opposite side of the room, the one overlooking her large garden. "It's been blowing open every night for de past fortnight. I've asked my dad to look at it, but he hasn't gotten round to it yet, what wit' de wedding and everything. Oh, well, I won't have to put up wit' it much longer. I hate de bloody cold."

"Gu' job we're honeymoo'in i' Greece," I slurred. My fiancée grinned, and patted the holiday brochure on her bedside table. It had been left open, revealing an image of the villa we'd be renting. It was situated on a cliff by the sea, and looked down onto a green slope covered with hundreds of olive trees. "Still looking, eh?"

"Every night," she grinned. I grinned too, and slumped down onto the bed beside her. This immediately earned me a swat to the arm.

"Hey!"

"Ssh! Damn it, Brone! I hope you don't t'ink you're spending de night here. My mum and dad would t'row a fit if dey found out."

"They can't seriously b'lieve you're still a virgin," I yawned, making my self comfortable.

"Well dey do, and if dey come in here and find you naked in handcuffs, dey'll eit'er drop dead from shock, or skin me alive!" She shoved me off the bed then. I gave her my best puppy dog expression, but it had no effect, so in the end, I apparated back to my cottage and crashed out in my own bed.

I was as giddy as hell on the morning of the wedding. I couldn't wait to make everything official—to proclaim to the world that Isolt was mine. I joked about making an honest woman out of her, but it really would be a relief once I no longer had to sneak around her parents. She'd be moving in with me full time and that was that.

I stood at the front of the church in my grey suit and cobalt tie beside my best man as I waited for her. My mother was already blubbering into a handkerchief. I had no idea how she would survive the ceremony.

I could hardly breathe when the organ music began reverberating through the stone room. The bridesmaids came in first, clothed in floor-length dresses, the colour of which matched my tie. They walked gracefully in time with the music to the front of the aisle, carrying their blue and white cascading bouquets. I heard the appreciative murmurs of many young wizards as they took in the lovely girls. Maybe I'd set a trend.

My heart pounded against my ribcage when, suddenly, I spotted her. There she was, right there, at the end of the aisle on her father's arm, looking more beautiful than ever in an ivory a-line gown, made up from layer upon layer of chantilly lace. It had sheer tulle elbow-length sleeves, too, with floating lace patterns. Isolt's golden hair was loosely pinned up and decorated with a small number of white flowers. My mother had temporarily removed the slash of colour, insisting that it clashed with the colour scheme. I didn't mind, as long as she charmed it back in afterwards.

She looked as nervous as I felt as she stepped towards the front of the church. Her beauty blew me away, and I couldn't help but grin throughout the entire wedding march. My expression seemed to relax her, and it wasn't long before hers was mirroring mine.

We said our vows before our family and friends. Isolt had to speak through tears. I held her hands in mine and waited patiently for her to get the words out. When the priest finally said the sealing words, I kissed her as passionately as was courteously possible in present company, whilst the guests whooped and cheered.

"Oh, did ya see dat, Tomas!" I heard my teary-eyed mother say. "Did ya see!"

"I did, Bríghid," replied my dad.

"Dey finally did it! Our work here is done!"

The celebrations went just as well as the ceremony. We had our reception in an old Irish manor, one big enough to hold our two hundred and twenty seven guests. In short, everyone got merry, danced a lot, and boomed with laughter during the speeches. I was the butt of many jokes. Kingsley remarked that he was surprised I'd found such a sweet and lovely bride; for a long time, he'd believed I'd end up with a scaly, fire-breathing dragon. Only half of the guests understood the reference, though they all laughed at the joke.

My wife and I departed the celebrations in a cheer-filled storm of blue and white confetti. A wizard was waiting outside the manor in a sleek unobtrusive Mercedes. Our family and friends waved us of as he drove us away. We were dropped off a few miles from the manor, where we apparated back to the cottage to retrieve our luggage and change for the journey.

I was all for travelling via the Floo, but Isolt wanted me to experience aeroplanes. I was a little dubious when I saw the big metal birds, more than a little baffled as to how such bulky contraptions could make it off the ground. In the end, I was glad I decided to go along with it. The take off was exhilarating, and more than a little fascinating. Isolt tried to explain the physics of it all, and pointed out the window to the massive propellers. After forty five minutes, I'd finally grasped the basic science behind it, and spent the rest of the journey with my nose pressed to the little plastic hole, looking down at the thousands of twinkling lights. Never before had I travelled to such altitudes. You just couldn't do it with a broomstick.

When we arrived at the Kefalonian airport, it took us twenty minutes to get through customs, and then an additional ten to retrieve our luggage. We left the building then, and disapparated as soon as we located a quiet corner away from the eyes of the public.

Isolt squealed when we appeared at the top of the cliff. The air was warm, even with the late hour, and I could hear the chorusing of nearby crickets as they enjoyed the night. Above us, the sky was clear, revealing the stars and moon, the light of which was mirrored by the black glassy ocean beneath. The villa seemed to possess a subtle aura as it, too, reflected the silvery glow off its white painted walls.

It was a two story building with terracotta roof tiles and blue window shutters. Inside, there was a pretty courtyard with dozens of potted flowers, along with a circular dining table. The lights had been left on for us by the owner. By the door, he'd had a small safe installed. I didn't bother with the combination, and instead opened it with a flick of my wand. A shiny brass key was there waiting for us,

Isolt giggled when I carried her over the threshold. I kept her swept up in my arms as we took our first tour of the villa.

"Aw, Brone, it's even better dan I imagined," she said when we entered the kitchen, where there was a traditional hearth for cooking, and a large wooden island to prepare food, over which hung lots of different sized pans and various cooking utensils.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," I said as we made it into the bedroom. It had a very large bed by one wall, which was surrounded by a thin mosquito net hanging from ceiling to floor. The walls were white like the bedding, whilst the floor was wood panelled, the colour matching the bed frame, the cupboards, and the wardrobe. The full-length shutters opened out onto a decently sized balcony that overlooked the sea. Carefully, I lowered Isolt onto her feet, and went to open them.

"Hey, we have a great view," I told her. I felt her arms slide around my waist as she peeked out over my shoulder.

"You're right," she whispered in my ear. "It's gorgeous. I don't t'ink we could have found anywhere better." Her breath on my skin immediately had my absolute attention, and I found that I could no longer appreciate the unspoiled landscape before me, for my thoughts were drifting elsewhere. I turned and placed my hands on her shoulder, before slowly pushing her in the direction of the welcoming bed.

"Why don't you stay here and get comfortable, whilst I go down and see to the luggage? It's still outside."

"Leave it there," she urged with a smile, pulling my face to hers. "No one is gong to steal it."

"Tempting," I chuckled. "Very tempting. I asked the owner to stock the fridge though, and paid him a little extra for champagne. I'll be back in five minutes with supplies." I laughed more loudly when my words caused Isolt's stomach to rumble. She must be hungry too.

"Alright, but hurry back, Mr O'Friel." My wife pulled my collar more firmly, until I was leaning over her on the edge of the bed, locking me in a deep and heated kiss. Her fingers wove through my hair, clutching the back of my head. I groaned at grasped her hips, my thoughts propelled into a sudden frenzy. All too soon, the kiss ended, leaving Isolt smirking mischievously up at me. "There's your motivation."

"Hurry back," I repeated. "Got it." And then I bolted from the room.

"Love you!" she called.

"Love you more!"

With that, I ran down the stairs and out the front door, where I took hold of our things and carted them inside. Then I went to the kitchen and set about preparing supper. I found fresh bread, which I cut into thick slices, and smeared with honey. I filled a small bowl with Greek yoghurt too, and another one with red and green grapes.

Upstairs, the bed gave a sudden creak. I smiled to myself as I imagined Isolt testing the springs. I'd be reviewing them with her soon … very soon.

After pouring champagne into two flukes, I transferred the bottle back to the ice bucket to chill, and set about tidying up. Finally, when the place was as clean as it had been to begin with, I slid the bucket under one arm, and charmed the tray into the air, humming merrily as I made my way out into the courtyard, where I climbed the stairs up to the next floor.

"I hope you're hungry," I called, manoeuvring my way towards the bedroom. The door was ajar, so I know she heard me, but there came no reply. "Hey, you'd better not have fallen asleep missus, or I'm going to—"

I stopped dead as I turned into the room.

So did my heart.

My wand and the ice bucket slipped from my grip automatically, whilst the tray of food fell from air, all of it crashing down onto the floor at once, glass and china shattering together in a terrible cacophony. I felt the yoghurt splatter my toes, I felt the champagne on my legs, I felt the tiny shards of glass as they penetrated my skin, ricocheting off the floorboards. Everything was tumbling around me, both literally and metaphorically, for there on the bed—the netting pulled back to give me the full horrific view—was Isolt, her dead green eyes staring up at the ceiling, her skin deathly white from blood loss, her lips purple like a corpse's. And there, on her neck, was a defiled circle of skin, where teeth had penetrated the silky membrane, cutting through to the current of blood surging beneath. Crimson stained her chest. It stained her clothes. It was everywhere, save for the place that it should have been—within my wife, keeping her strong and healthy, locking her life inside of her.

And then I saw it. I saw the thing that was destined to haunt me for the rest of my life: a small yellow post-it note, stuck to the side of her cheek. It had my handwriting on it. My guts churned inside of me when I realised what it said …

'I win.'

Bile shot into my mouth so quickly and forcefully that I didn't have time to double over. The smell of stomach acid mixed with blood had me vomiting even more violently a second later. Those first few minutes were the most horrendous I had and would ever experience. I cried violently as I spilled my insides onto the messy floor, the room filling with my ripping screams, all of it blurring around me. When I had nothing left to spew … when my stomach was completely empty, I stumbled forward onto the bed, crawling over my immobile wife.

"ISOLT! ISOLT! WAKE UP! PLEASE! PLEASE, WAKE UP!" I shook her forcefully over and over, but she never did. She was just a shell, an empty casing, like a crumpled chocolate wrapper after the best part had been removed. I screamed for what felt like hours, cradling her dead body in my arms, rocking us back and forth. Never had I held her so tight before. Alive, it would have hurt her … bruised her.

Eventually, my howls of grief transformed into sobs of despair. I was small and weak, dry-heaving repeatedly every few minutes. Finally, the sobs gave way to a furious out-pour of hate filled cries. I felt my neck muscles bulge with rage as I screamed, I felt the sting in my eyes as my blood vessels burst, and I felt the adrenaline rush through veins like a poison, changing me irrevocably … transforming me into what I have been ever since: a hunter.

I stayed that way until they came for me—Kingsley and a group of officials from the Ministry. My parents were there too. I vaguely remember my sobbing father trying to pry me away from her body. It had been my parents who had alerted the authorities. They'd stayed up later than usual, both snuggled up by the fire with their novels and their reading glasses, checking the globe every now and then to watch our journey over Europe. They'd just been about to go to bed, having seen that we'd arrived at our destination, when Isolt's needle suddenly fell to the floor. My mother had broken down immediately, knowing instinctively what it had meant. My father, on the other hand, had clung to hope, and did his best to quieten the wails and howls of his anguished wife.

I don't remember much of the following hours. My mind was too preoccupied with it's plot for revenge. My parents tried to convince me to go home with them. They were afraid of what I'd do. I wouldn't have it though. How could I go home when the monster who had snatched everything from me in the space of five minutes was out there, somewhere in the world, laughing smugly to himself, having completed his sick game?

Everything suddenly clicked into place. He'd been watching us for over a month. That's how he'd known where to find us—ibecause he'd been the one who kept opening Isolt's window, sneaking into her room each night so that I would know … so that I'd know he'd seen the holiday brochure with the picture of our villa. And how had he found me in the first place? My accent, I guessed. Anyone who met me would know I was Irish.

"I'm not going home with you," I croaked in a lifeless voice. "I'm going after him—the one who did this. I won't rest until he's ash. Any vampire I take down along the way, all the better."

"B-but Br-r-rone," my mother sobbed, hyperventilating, "y-y-you don't e-even know wh-wh-who—"

"I know who he is, and one way or another, he's going to burn."

Then, without so much as a 'goodbye', I sprinted away from my parents and phased out of my humanity, welcoming the canine senses that would keep me occupied for the next decade. The ground flew away beneath my feet, and my hunt began.


	24. The Promise of Bacon

**A/N: Posting this moments before I'm due to set off to the airport. Heading off to Cyprus for 2 weeks, so I'll finally have some time to write! The lack of time meant that I didn't get chance to make corrections, so I'll just have to fix them when I get back.**

** Thank you to all of you who continue to give me motivating reviews. I would just like to take this opportunity to say that whilst I appreciate constructive criticism, I would appreciate it if those who don't like a particular chapter try for a little more tact. I put a lot of effort into this thing, and it's hard to write when I have to fit it in between twelve hour shifts. If you find something dull, I'd rather not know about it. Anyway. Off to the Med to relax and write. Thanks!**

** =D**

**EPOV**

A tempest was stirring within me. Wave after wave of searing rage battered my body from the inside, like dark, sinister waters whipped into a savage fury by tormenting gales.

The face of Isolt's murderer interrupted my vision, blotting out the eccentric cliff residences bordering the meadow. I couldn't see the pretty, little snowdrops interspersed throughout it, nor the creatures that had made it their home. The scene before me was entirely obscured, eclipsed by the image of a familiar red-eyed monster.

The chair arm crumbled under my grip, until it was little more than sawdust in the grass. Another jolt of searing hatred hit me like an electric shock as the creature sneered, his bloodless lips curling up tauntingly.

James.

Beside me, Brone was hunched forwards, his head in his hands as he continued to relive the worst hours of his life. His agonised sobs fuelled my hatred, summoning dark memories of my own, from a time when I had narrowly escaped a similar fate. There was no adjective in the English dictionary powerful enough to encapsulate the severity of the ensuing emotions. Had I been human, that type of fury would almost surely have killed me. Every part of my body would have haemorrhaged with the force of it, leaving me to die in a bloody pile on the ground, one more victim of the demon who had already destroyed so many lives.

My acidic snarls startled the wizard, rousing him from his hopeless despair. He stared curiously in my direction, confused as to why a vampire would display such a strong reaction to the sorrows of a mortal. He didn't understand that I had very nearly been the next Brone. He didn't understand how close the same evil creature had come to destroying _my_ life. I could hear his sadness; if James had won the battle, I would have suffered the same terrible desolation, only it would've been a thousand-fold, deeper and more treacherous than the darkest reaches of the ocean.

"That monster…" I spat fiercely. "I've met him before."

For one single beat, the wizard was stunned into absolute stillness. I heard his shock shatter into rage a moment later, which was why I anticipated his attack. He launched himself from his chair, screaming as he dove at me, all reason abandoned.

"You know him!" he screeched, snatching at my shirt. "You know that murdering son of a bitch!"

"I did briefly." My reply only served in enraging him further.

"Best buddies were you!"

A bellowing growl automatically erupted from my chest. "Not in a million years."

Brone stumbled backwards, releasing his hold on my shirt, but his caustic expression didn't change. "I don't believe you," he whispered. "You're all the same."

"I know that's what you want to believe, but it isn't exactly true. The vampire who killed Isolt brought misery upon my family too."

That shocked him. His face slackened with surprise, and for a second, I think he believed me. Doubt was quick to set in though. I saw it in the crease of his brow and the stubborn set of his mouth.

"Alice, my sister, was the first of us to encounter him," I explained. "She doesn't remember her human life, because she spent the last of it in an asylum, undergoing shock therapy. Even as a human, she had a sense of the future. That wasn't something her parents appreciated, so they had her locked up. The … treatment … must have sent her insane. There's no other explanation for her amnesia.

"_He_," I growled, my voice growing more deadly, "was the reason she became a vampire in the first place."

Brone stared in disgust. I couldn't hear his thoughts anymore, for he was blocking me out again, but I knew he was too drawn in by the possibility that I was telling the truth, and so I continued uninterrupted.

"One of the members of staff working there was a vampire too. I can only guess that he was a vegetarian like us, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to work so closely with humans without risking exposure. When _he _arrived and caught Alice's scent, he would have destroyed her, but the vegetarian had grown fond of my sister, and so he protected her. He turned her into what she is now to save her from _him_, and for that, he was killed. James took his revenge."

Brone's eyes grew large as he recognised the name. "When you say James …"

"I'm referring to the same creature who hunted Bella," I finished solemnly. "The one who lured her to the ballet studio."

I measured the wizard's reaction as I gave him this news. It couldn't have been easy for him—to have to hear that his chance at vengeance was no longer possible. The air flew from his lungs in a gasp of disbelief, and he slumped back down into the armchair.

"I'm sorry. If I could, I'd bring him back and let you kill him again. I know how it feels. I wanted to do it myself too, but it was Jasper and Emmett who had that pleasure … in the end."

"You're sure it was him?" Brone croaked.

I nodded. "A hundred percent. The face in your memories matched."

His head was back in his hands, blocking my view of his face. "And the woman?"

"Victoria. The one I killed in the summer battle. Laurent, the other male, was killed by the local shape-shifters earlier in the year. They're dust now, every single one of them."

I couldn't help but pity the Irish wizard as he sat there trembling beside me. Whether it was from anger, sorrow, or a mixture of the two, I couldn't tell. The only thing I knew was that his breathing began coming in ripping gasps. Whenever he inhaled, violent tremors racked his body, as if each lungful caused him pain.

Without warning, he thrust a blow to the arm of his chair. I winced at the resulting crack when his knuckles connected with the wood. The sound indicated nothing less than multiple fractures, but Brone gave no sign that it hurt him. The physical pain was obviously a welcomed distraction from the inner turmoil. He punched the opposite side with his undamaged fist, which produced the same nasty bone-crunching noise. Finally, after another half a dozen swings, his mask faltered. He cradled his fist against his chest as his face contorted with pain.

The groans of agony soon transformed into pathetic whimpers. There was something very distressing about watching a grown man cry. Perhaps that was because males were generally compelled to avoid shows of weakness, owing to natural, ancient instincts. Whenever that guard did slip, therefore, and you perceived a man in a moment of vulnerability, nine times out of ten, you knew the emotion they were experiencing was strong and genuine.

"Ten years," Brone whispered suddenly. "I hunted those demons for over ten years. I wanted to watch them burn, and now I never will. I shouldn't have provoked them. It was all my fault."

"No," I answered fiercely. The wizard met my gaze with guilty eyes. "The note you left wouldn't have made a bit of difference. James still would have hunted you once he decided you were to be his meal. He was a tracker. He never let anyone get away. After he'd found you, both you and Isolt would have died. The only reason why he didn't kill _you _was because he wanted to rub it in your face. Either way, your wife still would have lost her life."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I heard his mind. I know what he was like. Tracking was a game to him. It was how he passed the time."

Brone grunted with abhorrence. "He was sick and twisted."

"I'm not going to dispute that."

The two of us fell into silence, neither of us quite knowing what to say. I guessed it made the vampire-hating wizard uncomfortable to know he had something in common with me. He gazed on blackly at the cliff as he pondered my recent revelation.

Inside the tent, Cormac was snoring loudly. His dreams were lewd and predictable. I rolled my eyes. At least mine had possessed a degree of tenderness when I'd been taking the sleeping draft. The boy clearly knew nothing of affection.

The scent of fresh blood set my mouth afire, but the temptation was minimal. Nothing compared to Bella's divine aroma. I peeked at Brone's wounds as he continued to deliberate. His knuckles were battered, the torn flesh wet with a crimson sheen. I wondered briefly why he didn't fix his injuries. I was sure he knew how to, but, evidently, he was too preoccupied with his thoughts now to repair the broken bones and tissue.

"I'm glad he's dead," he admitted a minute later. I suppressed a sigh of relief. "I wanted to kill him myself, but the chances of actually succeeding before old age set in were slim at best."

I nodded.

"After _that _day, I was gone for a long time. It was difficult to track them. At first, there were only two scents to follow, and they ended on the island's eastern coast. I apparated to the mainland after that, and searched the beaches for a trail. I picked one up near Agrinio, and followed it up into Macedonia, where the pair rendezvoused with the third vampire."

"Laurent," I guessed. "He tended to exclude himself from James' perverse missions. Victoria would've been the one to accompany him. What happened next?"

Brone inhaled a shaky breath, and proceeded with his history. He'd tracked the vampires up through Serbia and into Romania. From there, they went east. Unfortunately, the vampires were much quicker, and they gained a good lead on him. By the time he made it into Ukraine, their scents had been erased by numerous rainfalls and heavy snow. He didn't give up his search though, an apparated from one place to another in the hopes of finding a fresh trail. Eventually, his funds were depleted to the point where he could no longer afford food, clothing, or shelter, and was forced to return home.

The Ministry had already taken care of everything by the time he got back. The Fitzpatricks and the villagers had had their memories successfully wiped. The only evidence that Isolt had ever existed was a headstone in a graveyard a few miles from the wizard's home village. That and her scent. It was all over his house. Hers, too, obviously. He only paid one visit to her home—when her parents were out. What he found their confirmed his fears. James had been inside Isolt's bedroom. The 'stench' filled his nostrils when he morphed. It was for that reason that he didn't pay the place a second visit.

Brone never returned to his job in the Welsh dragon reserve. He drew no pleasure from the idea of resuming his care of the scaly creatures, because his thoughts were dominated by the desire for revenge.

When Kingsley offered him a job in the Auror department, he took it, knowing the prospect of bringing murderers and villains to justice would prove much more satisfying. In his spare time, he continued the search. It was another eight years before he caught the scent of the vampire trio again. He happened across it one summer in Quebec, and followed it down across the American border. Unfortunately, the growing threat posed by the Death Eaters forced an early return home, and he never encountered the trail of James, Laurent and Victoria again.

"Did it hurt them?" Brone asked darkly.

"They were torn to pieces and burned," I reminded him. "I'm sure it did."

"What am I supposed to do now?" he asked himself. I knew better than to suggest he 'move on'. If anyone had said that to me face to face after Bella had dove from the cliff, I would quite simply have maimed them.

"I don't know." Rather than attempt to issue pointless words of comfort, I left Brone to his thoughts, and returned my attention to Alpheus Truman's home.

It was quarter to six and the sky was still indigo. A groan from inside the tent interrupted the quiet, and Cormac soon graced us with his presence. His hair was stuck out in all different direction, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Sleep well, precious?"

The young wizard threw me a scathing glance. _Oh, ha ha. _"Did I miss anything?" he asked, turning to his fellow human.

Brone grunted a 'no'.

"Should've known. Truman never has visitors."

"Well, someone has to be getting close to him. He's not keeping himself confunded."

"Yeah, yeah. We got it Cullen. I was here first, remember?"

"And so far you've discovered nothing," Brone pointed out flatly.

"Hey, just because—"

Suddenly, there was an unmistakeable pop. I was immediately alert, unlike Cormac and Brone, who continued to bicker, both oblivious to the new development, a result of their average human hearing abilities.

"Sssh!" I said, holding up a hand. The pair fell silent immediately, tensing at the sight of my serious countenance. I listened carefully, sensing movement within Alpheus' residence. The wizard, however, had yet to get out of bed, and was still sound asleep, dreaming of pigs in blankets. I searched the room for another mind, but hit a wall. I pulled out instantly upon hearing a sudden gasp.

"What is it?" Brone pressed lowly when I cursed.

"Someone just apparated into the house," I told him. "Whoever they are, they're an Occlumens. I think they must have sensed me."

"Damn it."

"My sentiments exactly."

"Think it's the same person who tried to deter the investigation on Halloween?"

"Who?" Cormac cut in, wearing a confused expression. I ignored him, keeping my focus on the Auror.

"Possibly." I shrugged. "Is it normal to apparate into someone else's home unannounced in the early hours?"

Brone furiously shook his head. "Forget the early hours. It's not normal to apparate into someone else's home unannounced full-stop. It's the equivalent of bashing down the door."

I nodded. That was what I'd been expecting.

The person inside the house was standing as still as a statue. I couldn't hear his feet against the floor, but I could make out his heart, which had flown into overdrive. After a few more moments, he worked up the courage to shift his feet. Three seconds later, a head poked through Alpheus' bedroom curtains. Cormac gasped, whilst Brone's jaw clamped shut, his teeth grinding together in fury.

"Well, well. What a surprise."

"You don't sound particularly shocked," I murmured, keeping my eyes locked on our shifty new suspect.

Saber, Alpheus' work colleague, fleetingly scanned the meadow, searching for any possible threat. As expected, he found nothing. How could he when my accomplices and I were concealed by magic? When he concluded it was safe, he visibly relaxed, sighing with relief, before turning his back to the window and walking in the direction of the bed.

"Kingsley's been suspicious of him from the beginning," Brone hissed. I arched an eyebrow questioningly. This was the first I'd heard of the Minister's distrust. "It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Saber would start doing really well for himself just as his biggest rival started losing it.

"But then, when we began monitoring him more closely, he never did anything to suggest there was any substance to our theory. He didn't try and slip away to warn anyone of future operations, and after the ambush in Devonshire, where those Aurors were killed by the Fiendfyre, Kingsley and I couldn't see how he could have had anything to do with it."

"Perhaps that's why the Death Eaters needed someone else to pass on information," I guessed in acerbic tones. "They didn't want to draw too much attention to Saber."

My mind was already working ahead. Saber, being the current number one contender for the position of Head-Auror, was constantly in the limelight. It wouldn't have been wise, therefore, for him to put his position at risk, even if he _was_ secretly working for the opposition. It was too risky, and he could easily get caught. If I were the enemy, I would have done everything I could to maintain his high ranking position within the Ministry. It would certainly make seizing command easier later on. But, then, that would mean the Death Eaters would need someone else to pass on information. If Saber was one of the two, then I had just discovered the identity of the wizard who had tortured Bella.

My muscles bunched automatically. "He's a dead man."

Immediately, a hand came down on my shoulder. My eyes snapped to the Auror. Did he really think he could restrain me? From the look on his face, I doubted that.

"Let's not be hasty just yet."

Cormac huffed and leaned in further. "But this could be our guy."

"Either way, we should make sure before we go barging in. We don't want to attack the wrong person, not when there's a chance it could get back to the Death Eaters."

I nodded, realising the logic of Brone's reasoning. That didn't necessarily mean it was easy for me to comply, and I found myself digging my hands into the earth to try and hold myself in place. I wanted nothing more than to repay Bella's assailant.

"He's still in the bedroom," I noted.

Cormac shuddered. "Creepy."

The floor boards creaked beneath his feet as he shifted his weight. I could hear the fabric against his skin. It wasn't the same rhythmic sound occurring when a person walked. If anything, I guessed that the man must be rearranging his robes. There was suddenly the sound of something scraping against metal, which puzzled me for a second. The mystery was solved as I remembered something I had once read in the Prophet: _Iago Callidon, nicknamed 'Saber' by his colleagues for the sword-like sheath in which he carries his wand._

I jumped back into Alpheus' mind instinctively. He was still dreaming about pigs in blankets, though in the literal sense. Something abruptly cut the air with a quick swish, and, suddenly, the sleeping Auror was no longer visualising tucked up bacon. For a moment, his mind went completely black. I recognised the effect from my trips to the hospital, whenever I had been visiting Carlisle or taking part in further medical training. It reminded me of the way that certain drugs, like morphine, for instance, impair cognitive abilities.

"I think you were right," I told Brone, unable to keep the anger from my voice. "Alpheus' is being kept in a permanent state of confusion. I'd bet all the money in the world that Saber just confounded him."

The Auror hissed.

"All the better to manipulate the Ministry when the biggest threat is rendered useless."

"And Alpheus' never would've suspected Saber. He trusted him, because he fought against fought against You-Know-Who, though thinking about it now, he only ever injured Death Eaters back then. Never captured one."

"You think he's been playing you all this time?"

Brone ground his teeth and shook his head. "No idea, but it's seeming increasingly likely."

"There's a simple solution to all this, you know," Cormac voiced, arrogantly raising his chin a fraction. He smiled smugly when I arched an eyebrow. "Why don't we check him for the dark mark? If he's one of them, he'll have it for sure."

Brone scoffed. "That doesn't mean it'll be visible. They all faded the last time when _he _vanished. They're linked specifically to _him. _Now that he's gone, so are they."

The ambitious young wizard grunted with ostensible nonchalance. His embarrassment rang in my ears though, but I was too on edge to find any amusement in it. He shuddered against the cold and extracted his wand from his pocket, before conjuring a second blanket, which he wrapped tightly around himself, tucking his knees into his chest.

"What's happening now?" asked Brone. I felt my eyes narrow in concentration.

The only things swirling through Alpheus' mind now were kaleidoscopic shapes and colours. The sound of something scraping against metal reached my ears once more, indicating that Saber was re-sheathing his wand.

"Alpheus. Alpheus," he said silkily. His voice was familiar. I was positive I'd heard it before, but the harshness that had filled the mystery villain's on Halloween was no longer present, so I couldn't be sure that the two were the same. "Alpheus, wake up."

Slowly, pale chiselled features and a mop of dark hair came into view has the discombobulated wizard opened his eyes. Saber's face was filled with fictitious concern. "Are you alright?"

_Huh?_

"Are you alright?"

Alpheus blinked in puzzlement. "No, I'm Truman. Are who you?"

Because I was expecting it, I didn't miss the faint twitch at the corner of Saber's lips. He smothered the smile before it had chance to grow though, and shook his head.

"You're a funny one, Al. You know that?"

_No, really, are who you?_

"Come on. Time to get up, or we'll be late for work. You know we have to be in early."

"But tired I'm still."

Saber firmly grabbed Alpheus' arm and pulled him out of bed. The wizard wobbled on his feet and stumbled against the nearest wall, whilst his colleague threw open one of the inbuilt wardrobes and pulled out a pair of fresh trousers, a dark sweater, and a floor length muddy-coloured coat.

"Here, put these on," Saber instructed, throwing them to Alpheus, who failed miserably in catching them.

"Want don't these. Going bed to back."

That's how it continued for the next fifteen minutes. The suspect guided his incoherent victim down the rocky stairs and into the kitchen, where he sat him at a small wooden table.

"Saber is making Alpheus poached eggs."

Cormac scoffed. "Wow, evil to the bone."

"Oh, grow up," Brone spat, twisting in his chair. The boy flinched at the acid in his voice. "Can't you see what's happening here? Alpheus is too out of it half the time to be able to look after himself. Saber has to keep him in relatively decent condition or he'll just attract further attention. He's probably too confused to figure out how to feed himself."

The Auror wasn't far from the truth. Alpheus was clumsily attempting to shovel the eggs into his mouth with the wrong end of his knife and fork. Eventually, after a few infuriating chuckles, Saber set him right, and pointed out the mistakes in his sentence structure. Alpheus shook his head in an effort to clear it, before realising his errors.

_Huh, guess I'm not getting enough sleep after all. What time did I go to bed? I don't even remember climbing in. Weird._

At quarter to seven, the pair disapparated. I doubted that Alpheus would arrive at the correct destination first time, and, honestly, I didn't think Saber cared if he did or didn't. He just wanted to make sure the good wizard was significantly confunded, well fed, and that he wasn't turning up to work with his underpants on his head. That was my theory anyway.

"What now?" asked Cormac, his eyes still glued to the cliff. "Are we going in?"

Brone shook his head. "No point invading Alpheus' personal space. All we need to do is find out whether or not Saber's personal scent matches that of the man who attacked Isabella Swan on Halloween. If we do that at the Ministry, we can apprehend him straight away."

I bristled at the suggestion. As much as I wanted to take down Iago Callidon, I was becoming more conscious of the ache produced by the absence of Bella. I needed to know that she was alright. I needed to see her face. My head was swarming with hundreds of 'what ifs', and only a quick reunion would be enough to settle my growing sense of unease and panic. It was for that reason I insisted we rendezvous with Kingsley at the hospital. We could report our discovery, and I'd get to see Bella.

"All we have to do is keep this amongst ourselves for a few hours. That way, Saber will have no way of knowing we're coming for him."

"Why a few hours?" Cormac demanded after collapsing his tent. "Cullen, we should go as soon as—"

"I need to see Bella," I interrupted, addressing the uncertain Auror, who undoubtedly discerned the plea in my tone. Though I could still sense his aversion to me, something in my expression and voice must have trigged his understanding, because he nodded in agreement, his face softening in light of my current predicament. If it had been Isolt in Bella's place, he would have done the same.

As soon as everything was packed up, we left the lightening meadow and returned to St. Mungo's, where the Minister was waiting for us. We met him back in Harry's ward. Most of the Weasleys were gathered there when we arrived. They were all surrounding Mrs Weasley, who needed reassurance and support more than any other in the room. The only two missing were Charlie and Mr Weasley. Fleur Delacour and Hermione were also present, seated on either side of the middle aged witch, who continued to stare on at the boys with tortured eyes.

I immediately searched for the mind of my father. He wasn't where I'd expected him to be though. Rather than the first floor, he was on the fourth, staring down upon a sleeping woman with wispy grey hair. I knew her face. Not only had I seen hers and her husband's in Carlisle's mind a hundred times before, the resemblance she bore to her son was so strong, it was impossible to mistake. The woman was Alice Longbottom, and Carlisle had been working on her case since his placement at St Mungo's had begun.

Why was he not still alongside Bella? Panic swelled through my chest. I instantly began searching for another familiar mind. Alice's pulled me in.

_… is killing me. I need to get her out of those rags and quick. Maybe the Healers would let me draw the curtain so I could put her into something less repulsive. I could've handled that t-shirt when it was just bland, but she looks as if she's just jumped out of a slash horror._

I sighed in relief. Things had definitely got better since I'd left. My sister's thoughts never would have progressed to the stage they were at now had Bella's condition failed to improve. Aside from her matted hair and an angry pink line that stretched from her jaw to the base of her neck, Bella looked fine. The colour had returned to her cheeks, and the skin beneath her eyes was no longer dark. In a few hours, the scar would vanish, and she'd be awake. Even her heartbeat was strong again in the ears of my siblings.

Her eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids, and her lips parted a minute fraction, the hint of a smile playing at the edges.

"Mmm … piglets."

Piglets? She was dreaming about farm animals? The puzzle had me frowning. Was she hungry? Her voice sparked my concern. Normally, it possessed a clear bell-like quality. Today, however, it was as rough as sand paper. Without the evidence marking her neck, one might guess that she was suffering from a severe throat infection.

With the knowledge that Bella was doing well, all things considered, I returned my focus to the scene before me. Brone had slumped down into a hospital chair, receding back into his depression. Cormac, on the other hand, was doing his best to earn the Minister's attention, and stood before him with the rigid posture of a soldier.

Kingsley was very interested to hear of our findings. He didn't look entirely unsurprised; nevertheless, he was furious.

_The traitor! Damn it! Why didn't I go with my gut in the first place!_

"You had no way of knowing," I said. "As far as anyone could tell, Saber hasn't put a foot out of line for months. Why would he need to when he could get someone else to do the dirty work for him?"

_I don't believe this, _Percy thought, shaking his head. He looked completely defeated. _Iago Callidon is a hero. How could _he _be a villain in all this? After all, why would a Death Eater ally lead a group of Aurors to their hideout?_

My fists bunched automatically. "Think about it Percy. Whenever he did that, who came out the worst?"

The faces of deceased witches and wizards exploded behind his eyes at my words. The veins and tendons on the back of his hands stuck out like ropes as his fingers tightened on Ron's bed frame.

"He led them to the slaughter," he whispered, his voice layered with rage.

"And fooled everyone in the process," Bill added, equally livid. "It was a win-win situation for him. Take out the best of the department, whilst simultaneously slithering his way up the ladder."

"So what now?" asked Hermione.

"It's simple, Granger," Cormac smirked. The girl arched an eyebrow at his arrogance. "We corner Saber at the Ministry, after Cullen here checks on his meek little woman, that is."

The pretentious wizard managed to hold onto his bravado as I released a low growl, but I wasn't fooled by his mediocre acting skills.

"One more comment like that," I hissed, "and I'll throw you in with her myself the second she wakes up. Apparently, she's ravenous."

"Don't get my hopes up, Cullen."

Hermione cackled darkly. "You idiot. Bella's an Animagus."

"Minx or fox?"

_Don't rip his throat out. Don't rip his throat out._

"Neither. Try 'humungous cat with three inch fangs.'" Cormac stared incredulously at the witch, who smiled mockingly back. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I think you misinterpreted Edward's meaning. When he said she was ravenous, he wasn't being figurative."

"That's right," George sneered. "Besides, you didn't fare too well against the notorious Swan last time you tried it. Maybe you should get in a few cage fighting hours against regular lions before you consider taking her on again."

Embarrassed now, McLaggen fell into silence, much to my relief. In an attempt to pass off his humiliation as boredom, he rolled his eyes and turned away from us, keeping close to the Minister.

Before I left to return to Bella, I agreed to meet Kingsley and Brone at the Ministry later that day. We all promised, Hermione and the Weasley's included, to keep quiet about the plan until then, since no one wanted word to get back to Saber.

George accompanied me out of the ward; the image of the battered boys was evoking too many painful memories.

_Think I'm going to go and track down my dad. With everything that's been going on recently, he's agitated at the best of times._

I nodded. "Understandable."

We turned out into the reception area, where we paused to bid each other farewell. A deep furrow had formed between George's eyes.

_This business with the Death Eaters is taking its toll on everyone at the Ministry, Edward. My father isn't even in the Auror department and he's feeling the effects. Mum thinks he's about to have a nervous breakdown. If he's not retreating to his shed to fiddle with his new Sunny Ericson, he's talking to himself about this that and the other._

"And what the bloody hell is predictive texting anyway?" George suddenly exclaimed. "I thought Muggles didn't practice divination!"

The image of Mr Weasley hunched in an armchair, bent over his cell phone, filled my head. His son painted him with an obsessive look in his eyes, as if the message he way typing was the most vital thing in the world.

"Um … no," I answered, temporarily distracted. "It's just a different way to write electronically."

"I'm not even going to pretend to know what that means."

I chuckled lightly, but the comic relief didn't last long. "Your dad will probably be with Charlie."

George smiled appreciatively. _Yeah. That's who I heard about this newest mess from. He burst into the shop and told me. I was tucked up in bed at the time. Thought someone had come to steal my merchandise. It didn't turn out too well for poor old dad._

I saw the scene play out in his mind. The unlucky Mr Weasley had inadvertently been the one to test his son's new prototype: hiccoughing haze, which burst from a small grenade when the trigger was released, causing anyone who inhaled it to hiccough themselves into the air, where they floated for a good five minutes. Unfortunately, George had charged hastily into the room, half mad after being disturbed from his bed by a potential crook, and had aimed a spell at his father, unable to properly make out the man through the blue shroud that obscured him. Because of that, along with the violent hiccoughs, Mr Weasley had also fell prey to the Bat-Bogey Hex.

"I'm sure he'll have forgiven you by now," I told him.

"Either way," George shrugged, running a hand through his hair, "I'd better go find him. I doubt he'll be heading to the Ministry today anyway, but I should warn him all the same."

I nodded. "As long as it goes no further than your family."

_We wouldn't, _George thought to me, his expression hardening. _My family was part of the Order of the Phoenix, Edward. No one in that room would give the plan away._

"I know that," I assured him.

"Well, with the exception of McLaggen, that is, but Kingsley will keep him in his sights all day, I'm sure."

With that, we parted ways. George went off to locate his older brother and Mr Weasley, whilst I rushed back to the Dai Llewellyn Ward to rejoin Bella.

Charlie was there when I entered, seated alongside Bella's bed. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, due to both anxiety and lack of sleep. He started as I walked through the door, shifting forwards in his chair.

"Where've you been?" he questioned. His voice wasn't harsh, but I could sense the disappointment in it. He'd expected me to remain with Bella whilst she recovered. Crossing quickly over to the bed, I sat down opposite him and took his daughter's hand in mine, mirroring his pose.

"Bella's friends have been hurt, and everyone is convinced that Death Eaters are behind it. I'm sorry, Charlie. I didn't want to leave her. The only thing that would ever motivate that would be the possibility that doing so could help protect her in the future."

"I'm not sure you can," he replied, in a voice loaded with pain. "The seer was right. It's as if there's a blade hanging over her life, ready to fall at any minute."

Alice released a delicate snort. "I don't believe a word of it. There's only one thing that brought all this on last night, and that was the stupidity of the Wolves! Divine manipulation doesn't even come into it."

Jacob bristled behind Charlie's chair. For a moment, I was afraid he'd lose his hold on himself, and that his trembling would result in dangerous consequences. He thrust his anger away though before Jasper's aid was necessary, reminding himself that he agreed with my sister.

_The fortune-teller's right. The pack _did _act stupidly last night, and I was a moron for insisting we go in the first place._

Charlie, who was completely oblivious to the pup's self-berating, pressed on with the conversation. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I can see the future too, and I see nothing to indicate that Bella will suffer anything other than the stress of school work in the near future. She's going to be fine, Charlie."

Because I didn't want to shatter the small hope Alice's words inspired, I refrained from pointing out the flaws in her argument. Sure, she could see the future, but she was far from infallible. Bella's life could take a hundred different turns before she reached the massive event Chiyoko had predicted. Then again, if the fate the seer had supposedly foresaw was guaranteed to happen—an unavoidable destiny that Bella was certain to fulfil—then surely Alice would be able to see it, wouldn't she?

I shook my head, casting aside my silly line of thought. Alice was right. The seer's predictions were bogus.

_She's getting better, Edward, _Esme told me. _She'll be awake in no time, I'm sure._

I nodded stiffly.

_Alice told us about Iago Callidon. She had a vision of you in the meadow with Brone._

"Hmm. Alice, did you see me at the Ministry?"

My sister shook her head. "I tried, but there are too many factors obscuring that place. It's completely off my grid."

"Figures," Rosalie grumbled, earning an irritated look from the prophetic vampire.

Whilst the others bickered amongst themselves, I began completely focusing my energies on Bella. As usual, her shield was up. I gently probed at the edges of it, willing her to let me in. Her lips twitched and she sighed my name, encouraging me in my attempts at invasion.

I pushed again, aware that all eyes were now on the two of us. I couldn't be sure whether or not she recognised the feel of me, but that's what I told myself when she allowed me access a few seconds later.

In her dreams, a pointed purple hat sat atop her head, glittering in the sunshine. She looked like the stereotypical witch, with black and white stripy stockings, and purple boots with curled fronts. Her odd attire wasn't the most bizarre part about the dream though, for the witch and her cauldron were situated smack bang in the middle of a sty, surrounded by grunting pigs covered with slime.

_Edward?_ Bella called uncertainly. She continued to stir the glowing green substance in her mammoth pot, stopping only to throw in various ingredients, which she picked from the table beside her. I tried not to laugh when the dog tails were added to the mixture.

I prodded once in response.

_Good, you're not too late._

Not too late? For what?

_By the way, _she continued, taking a ladle from the table, _am I dreaming?_

_ Yes._

_ Ah, I thought so._

This, of course, didn't deter her from her peculiar project. Spooning the potion into a dog bowl, she placed it before a pair of small, white puppies, which seemed to have appeared from thin air. After greedily lapping at the unknown substance, the fluffy canines suddenly transformed into fat, grunting beasts. They oinked in fear as Bella threw her head back and cackled.

I tried not to laugh as I remembered how my fiancée's dreams frequently played out in reality. It didn't work though, and the room subsequently filled with mirthful echoes.

"What?" asked Charlie. I merely shook my head, clutching my sides at the vision in my head.

"Edward," Bella said again. Her eyes flickered in recognition as my laughter broke through the dream barrier, filling her ears. The sleep was still too heavy for her though, weighing her down and keeping her under.

_I like that sound._

My gaze landed on my brothers, who were both looking on with confused expression.

"Tell me a joke."

"What?" they said together.

"Make me laugh."

"Um … alright," said Emmett. Abruptly turning to his wife, he waved a hand at Rosalie, whose eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Observe … the female—"

"Em-mert," she warned.

"—a terrifying creature. As deadly and mysterious as the Sphinx. When the female opens her mouth, she speaks in riddles, as Jasper and I shall now demonstrate. I shall give you a common phrase used often by women; Jasper shall give you the translation."

_They're going to pay for this, _thought the girls, crossing their arms.

"Ahem … It's fine."

Jasper deliberated for less than a second. "It is _not_ fine. I am obviously lying, and unless you realise this soon, you shall pay severely for it later."

"It doesn't matter. Forget it …"

"… And I'll never speak to you _ever_ again."

"…"

"I'm still mad at you."

The daggers being aimed at my brothers began flying in another direction when I laughed. My sisters' glares, however, had minimal effect, because Bella's eyes began flickering more quickly again.

_I love that sound._

"Let's make up …"

"I miss your credit card."

"I bought something for you …"

"I bought something for me, with your credit card, and now I'm pretending it's for you."

Emmett grinned slyly. "No, baby. I don't need a diamond for Christmas."

"My prrrecious!"

Charlie and Jacob laughed this time too. The fact that Jasper was drumming his fingertips together like a Bond villain only increased our amusement. Bella's eyes moved faster beneath their lids.

_Dad? Jake? Edward? Mmm, Edward._

"It's nothing."

"It's definitely something."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"

"Warning: pain ahead!"

"I'm tired."

"Touch me and die."

"I'm hormonal."

"It's reached that time of the month where I grow scales, shed my skin, and prey on small children."

"You can't buy your way off the hook …"

"I can't actually _admit _that I'm cheap."

"Jasper!" Alice and Esme exclaimed together.

"I love you," he shot back, turning on the charm as he smiled hopefully at his angry wife.

Rosalie smirked wickedly. "Translation: please still give me sexy time later."

I was sure my brother would've blushed if he could have. The tables turned suddenly, so that it was my sisters doing the translating instead. I continued to laugh, glad when it produced a reaction from Bella.

"I bought you a diamond necklace …" said Alice.

_I'm prepping you for the pearl one I plan on giving you tonight, _thought Rosalie.Thankfully, she responded with something marginally less vulgar. I don't think Charlie would ever have gotten over it otherwise.

"… so I won't get a slap for—"

"Edward," Bella croaked. A few seconds passed, where the rest of us held our breath, and then chocolate was spilling out from beneath the witch's eyelids, melting my stony insides. For a few brief moments, her pupils drifted in and out of focus, settling only when I gently called her name.

"Hi, you," I murmured when her gaze fixed on me. Her breath came in even intervals, deep and lazy. The confusion was plain on her face, highlighted by the slight furrowing of her brow, and her lightly pursed lips.

"Edward?" She winced at the sound of her voice, though I suspected it was also painful for her to speak.

"Ssh. Don't talk. You need to rest."

"But—"

"Use your mind, Bella. We can speak that way," I urged.

She blinked in puzzlement at my suggestion. Evidently, she wasn't yet fully awake. I held back a chuckle.

_What's going on, Edward?_

"Don't you remember? We were back at the house, and the Wolves came." Jacob shifted uncomfortably behind Charlie, who bristled in his chair. Bella's hand flew to her neck as the memory hit her. She felt gingerly along the angry pink scar, her fingers moving next to her collarbone on the opposite side, tracing over the new layers of skin.

_Oh._

Normally, Bella was a very tolerant individual. The patience she'd built whilst living with her adventurous mother had prepped her for most things life was to throw at her, but every now and then, she surprised even me. Those two deep wells were suddenly blazing, brimming with a fire I rarely witnessed. In her head, she imagined what would've played out if the worst had happened—what would have transpired if she'd lost her life.

She envisioned me in a spacious, circular room, which was completely bare, save for the veiled arch at the centre. I was barely recognisable as I trudged towards it like a lifeless zombie. My soul was gone, for it was now irrevocably bound to Bella's. If hers was thrust into the next world, mine would tear away from its vessel to accompany her, leaving behind nothing but a dead cell. I was glad she understood the seriousness of recent events.

"Bella," said Jacob, his tone beseeching, "I can't tell you how—"

"It wasn't _your _fault."

"But if I hadn't—"

"You didn't put me here!" she rasped harshly, swallowing hard at the burn in her throat.

"Bella, listen to Edward," Charlie suggested, squeezing his daughter's hand. "Don't talk. You need to rest."

Bella sighed and nodded. She didn't want to see her father grimace every time she spoke, and so she decided to keep quiet until she was less hoarse.

"You had me scared, kid," admitted Charlie. Bella smiled apologetically as he rubbed her hand like a talisman. Chief Swan wasn't a sentimental man by nature, but it wasn't difficult to see the love he had for his daughter. "You're as tough as old boots though, aren't you?"

My siblings chuckled quietly, as did I. Bella smirked and nodded.

_Tell him he worries too much, Edward._

"Bella says you worry too much."

_It's going to affect his health._

"It's going to affect your health."

"Ahem! The last time I checked," Charlie teased, "you were the patient, and I was the lecturing parent."

This earned an amused roll of the eyes from said patient. Her dad laughed, but after a few seconds, his expression darkened considerably, and his voice became rougher with the imposing strain of his anger.

"So what now? Do you want me to arrest them, sweet heart?"

"Arrest Paul and Leah?" I asked on Bella's behalf.

"Sure, I could tow them down to the station the second we get back. Honestly, the way I'm feeling right now … that Paul," he growled, "will be lucky if I don't put a cap in his ass."

Emmett did a poor job of masking his guffaws as he pressed his mouth against the sleeve of his jacket. Bella grinned at her father.

"Dad, have you been watching MTV?"

Charlie sniffed. "Gangster movies, Bella. Gangster movies."

"Ah, right. My bad. Sorry, Dog."

"A'ight."

The witty exchanges continued as the morning progressed. They helped to keep the atmosphere light. For now, everyone's main priority was to deliver Bella back to full health, and tension was the last thing that would assist a speedy recovery.

Hippocrates Smethwyk, the ward's main healer, crossed over to the bed every now and then to inspect his patient. He peered through his round-framed spectacles at the witch, studying the colour of her skin and the scar on her neck. Each time he returned, he scribbled his findings on a clipboard, making little noises of satisfaction, much to my relief. He was especially pleased when he pulled back Bella's hair to find that the pink skin had faded to a light peach, barely visible against the cream.

"I'm going to make you some soup later," I told Bella as she scooted off the edge of her bed. As the Healers had predicted, she was ready to be discharged at noon. Her skin was completely unblemished by that time.

"Edward, I'm perfectly fine," she insisted. Her voice was suspended now halfway between its usual harmonic smooth and a smoky roughness. The result was surprisingly pleasing. Sexy, even. The kind of sound you'd expect from an apathetic rock star. And what did that make me exactly? Ah, yes …

Edward Cullen, drooling fan boy.

I pulled her further into my embrace as we descended the stairs to the ground floor, the others marching behind us.

"That may be the case, but I've never made you soup before."

"That's because you've never seen me with a cold."

"Do wizards and witches even get regular illnesses?" Jasper inquired.

"Yeah," answered Bella, "but they're easily treatable: the common cold … food poisoning … measles … cancer."

We turned into reception area. Dilys Derwent didn't notice us as we passed her by; her attention had been pulled to the fire places, by which Carlisle was standing with Neville Longbottom and his grandmother.

In two wheelchairs before them, ready to be pushed into the Floo Network and transported back to Forks, were Frank and Alice Longbottom, both of whom were sleeping soundly in flannel pyjamas, their heads drooping forwards against their chests.

Esme flitted past us to join her husband, her caramel hair, alabaster skin and ivory blouse surely a blur to human eyes. Her long, nimble fingers lightly skimmed Carlisle's shoulder. The gesture was intended to both question and comfort.

"Neville has granted me permission to transfer his parents to a regular hospital," he told her.

The heads of my siblings all snapped suddenly to our adoptive parents. Only Alice looked unsurprised, but her thoughts revealed severe irritation. Whilst she'd seen flashes of Carlisle's work through her visions, their content left a lot to be desired.

"What's Carlisle doing with Neville?" Bella questioned, unable to discern the current conversation.

"He's planning on taking the Longbottoms to the hospital in Seattle," I told her. "He wants to do some tests on Neville's parents, but the equipment in Forks isn't advanced enough."

When she next turned her eyes on me, I could clearly make out the scepticism swimming in those deep chocolaty pools. "A Muggle hospital?"

"Absolutely," Carlisle broke in, approaching the group. His smile was blinding as he quickly inspected the girl before him, his gaze raking over the creamy unblemished skin of her neck. Esme was still chatting with Neville and his grandmother.

"But I Neville's parents are mad, aren't they?" Emmett pressed tactlessly.

Rosalie slapped a hand to her forehead. _Reeeeeal subtle, Emmett. Nice._

My brother's insensitive choice of words provoked a cough of discomfort from the vampire physician, who raked a hand through his sunshine hair in a slow and sombre motion, the smile simultaneously slipping from his immortal face.

"Yes, Emmett," he answered patiently. "As you have so delicately pointed out, Mr and Mrs Longbottom are, in fact, mad. I'm taking them for brain scans. It's the only step left to take."

"Do you think it will help?" asked Bella concernedly. Carlisle shrugged.

"Either way, it's worth a try." Before he left, he skimmed a thumb against Bella's cheek, the gesture loaded with fatherly affection, and flashed her a joyous smile. Then, he rejoined Esme and the Longbottoms.

Neville's grandma was stubbornly arguing against transporting Frank and Alice, demanding to know what good Muggle technology could do when the Healers of St Mungos had failed to make any progress whatsoever.

_Bloody codswallop! What a load of tosh! _she chanted mentally, angrily pulling her vulture hat more securely onto her head.

Charlie's eyes bulged as he took in the woman's odd attire. I think it affected him more than the ailments of those seated in the reception area. I could understand his reasoning: the man with the hairy teeth didn't look that way by choice—he was here to be fixed; Augusta Longbottom, on the other hand, decorated her head with a stuffed bird voluntarily.

"Interesting," he said, once she'd disappeared into the emerald flames of the Floo.

"Tell me about it," Jacob muttered resentfully.

We all made our way over to fireplace then. Bella was confused when I pulled her aside. I could sense her eagerness to be out of the hospital; she'd already experienced one too many in her lifetime, and wished to be away as soon as possible. In my desire to protect her, I had delayed informing her of Harry and Ron's critical condition. I didn't want to upset her further, but, unfortunately, that was inevitable; so as her father was following the pup back into the fire, I told her the entire story, whispering lowly in her ear when I came to the part about Saber and his treachery.

The air gusted out of her in one breath, and she stumbled against my body, her own weakening with the weight of the bombshell. Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper, all of whom had yet to cast their enchanted powder into the licking flames, wore expressions of concern as they gazed on at girl I supported.

"It's going to be alright, Bella," I promised. "I'm going to fix this. You go back with the others now, and I'll see you as soon as I've finished at the Ministry."

She shook her head with sudden fervour.

"Bella, you—" But I didn't get to finish. Without warning or explanation, the witch stomped away from me, a scowl marking her face as she determinedly pushed through the crowded welcome area.

"Oi!" cried an offended wizard with, quite literally, no neck, after almost being knocked into a woman with an enlarged tongue, which spilled across the shiny floor like a giant, pink slug.

Bella paid him no heed, and continued her march towards a door labelled 'broom cupboard'.

I waited outside with my brothers and sisters, each of us unsure how to proceed, especially when we heard strange noises coming from within, like that of something hard being furiously bashed against a wall, and a string of cussing that was in no way ladylike … not that furiously trashing a broom cupboard was. Still, these were special circumstances.

_If I didn't feel sorry for her, I'd laugh, _Emmett concluded.

_ Poor kid, _thought Jasper. _If it's not one catastrophe, it's another._

"AAAAARGH!"

At the sound of the commotion, the flustered receptionist came rushing over to investigate. She was fairly young, probably twenty or twenty one, and had neatly styled mocha-coloured hair that draped past her shoulders onto pristine, hospital robes. Initially, she'd snatched the opportunity to exercise her authority, but lost her nerve when she realised she was facing five vampires.

"What's going on here?" she questioned meekly, her eyes flicking to the broom cupboard, and then back to my family and me.

"Nothing," I insisted. A reverberating clang from behind the door suddenly undermined that a second later.

"What my brother means," Alice jumped in, "is that this is normal behaviour for his fiancée." She stressed this last word, noticing the sudden shift in the girl's demeanour, who was now eyeing me with a predatory lust. The blatant reference to my unavailability seemed only to encourage her though, much to my extreme irritation.

"How intriguing. Mr Cullen, isn't it?"

"That's right."

"I've met your father, you know."

"Charming."

"Oh, he is, as I'm sure you are. You know what they say: the apple never falls far from the—"

"RACHA-FACHA-ARGH!"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled a deep breath to calm myself. I sensed, rather than saw, my siblings exchanging wary glances. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow.

"Might I just say that you have an interesting choice in girl friends?"

With her temper flaring as it was, Rosalie cut me to the quick.

"No you may not!" she snapped, tightly folding her arms, and appearing completely unconcerned when the woman flinched. "Now if you don't mind, we'd appreciate some privacy. My future sister-in-law is having a moment!"

If it hadn't been for the fact that Rosalie could have snapped the receptionist's neck in a heartbeat, the woman might have argued. Luckily, she was too conscious of the potential danger, and turn-tailed instead, before making her way back to her desk.

Thirty seconds later, the ruckus in the broom cupboard diminished into quiet sniffling.

"Bella, darling?"

Another sniffle.

"Can I come in?"

"Mm-hmm."

Carefully, I pulled on the wooden handle and slowly eased the door open, before sliding inside. It was cramped. There wasn't enough room to swing a cat. Bella stood with her back to me. She was lent against a wall when I entered, her forehead cooling against the plaster. In her hand, there was the splintered length of wood, which had once formed the handle of the broom now lying on the floor. Everything was in disarray or broken. The cleaning equipment, most of which would have once sat on the shelves was now scattered on the floor. On the cold, white walls, either side of Bella, there were two bloody stains. The scent hit my nose as I gave a cautious sniff. The sight of her bloody knuckles had me hissing.

"You humans! What is it with you and self-harm?"

Her breath caught as I twisted her body into mine. Tears glittered down her cheeks. It was baffling to me how a few tiny droplets could exert such a tug on my heart strings. How could something so small have so much influence?

"Oh, Bella."

Her dainty fingers found my shirt, where they closed around the fabric over my chest.

"Sorry," she whispered. I immediately began kissing away the moisture on her face, brushing her skin gently with my lips, before transferring my ministrations to her damaged hands.

"Don't apologise. You've been through a lot in the last twenty four hours."

"I just want it to stop. I want everyone I care about to be able to get on with their lives without having to worry about what's coming next."

"I know."

"And now … Harry and Ron … Poor Mrs Weasley. And George."

"They're going to get better though," I told her, rubbing patterns against her spine.

"You're sure?"

I nodded. "That's what the Healers are saying, and I'm sure they know what they're talking about. Now, why don't we get out of this cupboard?"

"You're right. I need to go visit the guys."

"That," I agreed, "and the fact that my brothers and sisters are beginning to think we should have you committed."

Despite everything, Bella cracked a smile. "You probably should, you know. I gave up denying the madness within a long time ago."

Brushing her messy hair back from her face, I leaned down to kiss her. It was as if she took nourishment from it, for her gentle response became hungry as time continued to elapse.

"I probably should have just let you kiss me, rather than take my anger out in here," she admitted, gesturing to the room around us. "You're better at de-stressing me."

"Remember that next time," I told her sternly, reaching for her damaged hands to present them as evidence. "Instead of punching walls, must smooch Edward."

Her innocent countenance soon transformed at my words, her brightening eyes a clear indication of new born scheme.

"Note to Edward: must allow Bella to smooch me whenever she feels the slightest bit perturbed. Must not withdraw from kissing without permission, or damage to mortal girlfriend may ensue."

My lips twitched into a smirk. "The slightest bit perturbed."

"Indeed. Wouldn't want to hurt myself."

We held each other tightly, there in that broom cupboard. Nothing could touch us there. Nothing except the thoughts of my conspiring brothers, who, now that Bella had calmed from her rage, were taking the opportunity to make light of the fact that my fiancée and I were shacked up in a broom cupboard. I pinched the bridge of my nose once more as a pair of low goofy giggles reached me from the other side.

"Come on," I urged. "Let's clean this up and get out of here. I need to inflict some bodily harm."

**JPOV**

It was six o'clock in the morning in Washington State, and I was currently slumped, head on arms, at Sam and Emily's kitchen table, surrounded by my brothers … and Leah. She and Paul had been completely fixed by the time I'd got back. That Healer guy had worked his voodoo on them, and they were back to their ever cheerful selves. It was for that reason that I hadn't felt guilty when I'd punched Paul in the face. I hadn't been able to help myself. It was his own fault really for offending me. He should've known better than to say 'hello'.

The blow didn't get him riled, which was good, since I felt too tired for a fight. His guilt must've been too thick for him to phase. It glued him together, keeping his humanity from exploding like a bomb.

In the east, the clouds were turning from a deep blue to a dull purple. It was still dark out, as was only right for winter.

"What are we going to do?" Jared spoke up, breaking the silence. No one answered, because no one was quite sure what to say. I managed to shrug without breaking my pose.

What _do _you do when you find out that every fairy tale creature is true? That mermaids and unicorns and witches with magical powers are alive and well?

So Bella was one of them, was she? We'd all confided in her, and she hadn't returned the favour. Fantastic. Just wonderful.

"She's one of us," Paul growled. "A shape-shifter. We can't let the leeches turn one of ours! I say we force her to—"

"Oh, can it, Paul!" I fired. "Bella's where she wants to be. And she's not one of us. She's something else."

"She can morph!" Leah argued. "Paul's right. We should force her back here kicking and screaming if we have to."

"Yeah, and when we're done, we can take turns forcing her to do other stuff," I shot back vehemently. "Real nice, Leah!"

"Oh, grow up, Jake! You're such a—"

The argument went dead in an instant when Sam's fist came down on the table. Behind him, Emily gripped his shoulders. The effect was instant, like that of a drug: Sam calmed under the touch of his imprint, too conscious of her proximity to risk getting angry.

"Let's all just take a deep breath," he said. "Jacob is right. We can't force Bella Swan to do something she doesn't want to do. If she _was _one of us, that wouldn't be a problem, as you all well know. Therefore, I say we treat this as we have been doing since the battle against the newborns. We leave the Cullens to their business, and let them get on with their lives."

"Isabella Swan is _not _a Cullen," Leah hissed with eyes afire.

"I'm as good as."

Seven lots of chairs crashed against the floor as I shot to my feet with my brothers … and Leah. There in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking more pissed off than ever, was the witch herself. The glint in her eye was frightening, and the set of her mouth was deadly. Her gaze shifted from Leah to Paul, and back again. There was something rather threatening, too, in the way her fingers played at the wand in her hand. It was a wand, wasn't it—that thin white wooden rod? I suddenly felt nervous for the pair who'd put her in the hospital.

"Bella?"

"Hello, Jacob," she answered, in a voice that was deceptively placid. It kind of reminded me of that film, with the crocodile that lived in the lake. Beneath the calm, there was something lethal.

"What brings you here?"

"The promise of bacon."

"Huh?"

A wicked smirked played at the corners of her mouth. She didn't elaborate; instead, she continued to silently focus her poisonous glare on the subject of her simmering fury, which seemed to crackle in the atmosphere like electricity. Suddenly, without hint or warning, and with the swing of a professional tennis player, she threw her arm over her head, the limb curling like a cobra strike, and sent two bursts of rippling energy through the air. The spells met their targets, colliding with Leah and Paul with bangs that shook the kitchen furniture.

My mouth fell open with a pop as the pair transformed. Their noses filled out into snouts, their bodies shrank to half their size, and their feet and hands bunched into hooves. Unable to believe the insane sight before me, I rubbed my eyes with my hands and checked again, but sure enough, Leah and Paul had truly been turned into pigs, courtesy of the super bad witch, who stared down at the spectacle with a look of intense satisfaction.

A loud giggle abruptly escaped Seth's mouth, which he quickly slapped a hand over. It was that precise sound that roused Sam into action.

"WHAT THE HELL, BELLA!" he bellowed, his body blurring as he bounded forwards. The girl, however, immediately raised her wand in defence, aiming it at the Alpha, who subsequently froze on instinct.

"Come one step closer, and you'll be the third little piggy in this house. That wouldn't be very smart of you, Sam, considering we're surrounded by Wolves."

"Cut the crap, Bella. You can't leave them like this!"

"I don't plan to," she answered flatly, "but I'm not changing them back until I've drilled a certain message into their heads. Now, I suggest you take a step back, Sam. If anything happens to me, your friends will be stuck like this forever."

Sam's eyes narrowed to slits, whilst the veins above his temples pounded and bulged. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" she challenged, taking a step forwards. I was unable to prevent my eyes from raking over her body as she advanced. She wasn't wearing the same tattered outfit that she'd had on in the hospital; it had been replaced by a black hoody, dark grey skinny-jeans, and a pair of brown lace-up boots. It wasn't Bella's usual attire.

Seth, who had rightly switched amusement for anxiety, place a firm grasp on Sam's shoulder, not that he would've had much luck in restraining our leader in the event of a sudden phase.

"Sam, don't! We can't risk it."

The tremors continued for a few more seconds, so violent now that they may even have been painful, but luckily, Sam managed to calm himself. Once they stopped completely, and there was no danger that he would lose control, the Alpha took a step back, and nodded to Bella to continue.

She nodded in return, her face serious, before approaching the oinking piglets. The room filled with the sound of their shrill squeals. I wanted to shield my ears and block out the noise, but I was too overwhelmed by morbid curiosity to do so.

"Now then," said Bella, looking directly into the beetle-black eyes of the two oinkers, "I'm going to make this quick, so shut up and listen." Their protests died immediately at her words, though their frightened trembling continued. "Last night, the two of you together very nearly killed me. For that, I could forgive you."

_Why am I not surprised by that?_

"What I can't forgive, however, is what that could have meant for Edward. If you ever threaten his existence again, I will not only make this transformation a permanent one, I shall also see that you receive a one way ticket to the nearest abattoir.

"Considering the amount of pain I suffered last night, thanks to you two, I think we're a little closer to even."

The larger pig—Paul—grunted in protest.

"It was this or spider monkies," Bella warned, her eyes flaring. Paul snorted in apology, eager to placate her, and cast his eyes down to the floor. It was then that the witch rose from her crouched position. All eyes were on Bella as she began her retreat towards the door. I could hardly believe the extremes her love for the leeches had driven her to. It was a mystery to me. They weren't even alive! When she was once again leaning against the door frame, she pointed her wand at Leah and Paul, leaving it suspended there as she delivered one final reminder.

"It's your job to protect. You make such a massive deal about defending mortals against vampires, yet _you're _the ones who were very nearly responsible for killing me last night. Do it again, and you'll regret it."

And with that, she flicked her weapon at the pigs. It took the whole of a second for the transformation to unfold, leaving the couple sprawled out on their bellies, half way between the pack and the witch. In a panicked rush, they scrambled their way back amongst the rest of us, never managing once to tear their eyes from the disapproving girl with the magical powers.

She released them from her gaze when her focus flashed to me a second later. I don't know what she was looking for, but she studied me intensely for what seemed like a life time. I couldn't bring myself to look away, even though I felt an overwhelming sense of shame for what my pack had brought upon the girl I loved. I should have been staring at the floor, but it was as if some kind of phenomenal power swirled about her face, drawing my attention like iron filings to a magnet.

God, she was beautiful. And I couldn't have her.

"I won't see you again for a long time," she stated. "I'll be going back to Britain tomorrow."

"Oh…" _Well done, Jake. Could you be more socially inept right now?_

"Yeah."

On either side of me, Quill and Embry shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you," she smiled sadly. I nodded.

"Yeah. Bye, Bells. I'm really sorry about what happened."

"I know. So am I. It was a rubbish end to the holidays."

I had to chuckle at that. "Rubbish. Interesting description for a near death experience."

She grinned widely at that, and I was glad to hear that her laugh was once again as clear and musical as it had been before her throat had been shredded.

Slowly, the smile dropped from my face. "I wish you could have stuck around a bit longer. I was hoping for a bit more of an explanation."

"I'll write you," she promised, with a guilty expression. "Expect my owl. He'll be dropping by in the next month or so."

I would have questioned this, but thought it best not to. Instead, I simply nodded. She waved goodbye, and after one last glance in Paul and Leah's direction, both of who looked as if they were about to puke on the kitchen table, Bella departed, leaving just as many unanswered questions behind her as there had been prior to her visit.

Aside from the heavy breathing of her rattled victims, the room fell silent.

**BPOV**

The looks on the faces of the Wolves were priceless. It kind of made me wish that I'd taken a polaroid. With my thirst for revenge finally settled, I apparated from La Push to the Cullen mansion.

I was hopeful that Edward would be back, though that was unlikely. He'd probably still be restraining Saber. Whilst I'd stayed behind in Harry's and Ron's ward, he'd gone straight to the Ministry with Brone and Kingsley to apprehend the villainous wizard. I could hardly believe that we'd finally put a face to the man who'd attacked me on Hallow'een. In all honesty, he was beginning to feel like some kind of shapeless phantom.

Normally, I would've insisted on accompanying Edward on such a mission, but I was more concerned with comforting my Gryffindor dorm buddies than facing my assailant.

The Cullens were gathered in their giant lounge when I arrived, all surrounding one of the pristine couches, where, to my surprise, Edward was seated.

I experienced a jolt of panic when I first glimpsed him. He looked as if he'd been thrown into a trance, because his eyes possessed a far off look, like he was somewhere else entirely. Slowly, his gaze shifted to me, and he exhaled in defeat.

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry, Bella. I thought I was right but…"

"What? Edward, what's wrong?" I questioned, rushing forwards. He squeezed my fingers gently when I reached out to him, but by the looks of his face, he took no comfort from the contact.

"I was so sure," he whispered in disbelief. "Nothing else made sense."

"Edward?" I pressed again. He shook his head and clenched his eyes tightly shut.

"Bella … It wasn't him. The scent didn't match … Saber is innocent."

**Sorry about any errors. This last part was a little rushed, but I just haven't had the time unfortunately. I'll have something for you when I get back though. Hope that will make up for it. =)**


	25. The Golden Lair

**A/N: Hello! Finally got this written up. I actually finished it two weeks ago in Cyprus, but I've been so busy that I couldn't find the time to write it up. Thanks for all your well-wishes, and for all the support and motivation. My course has finally started. I'm telling you now: it's going to be intense. If it takes me a while to upload, as it usually does nowadays, that's why. I hope you like the chapter! Thanks again.**

**Also, I forgot to do this last time, because I was in a massive rush: thank you to kyokoaurora for suggesting Carlisle try and help the Longbottoms. Credit goes where credit is due. Thank you!  
**

** Twitter = twitter(dot)com/#!/aegiggle1**

**BPOV**

My fingers continued to drum out a repetitive rhythm against the library desk as I flipped through a particularly tedious chapter on the magical properties of rare vegetation located in certain areas of the Arctic Circle. It was the second week into the new term. The teachers had seriously upped the workload recently, determined to provide this year's N.E.W.T. students with the best preparation for the final exams. There wasn't a single empty table in the dimly lit library. Students were working diligently throughout the room, some scribbling furiously onto lengthy rolls of parchment, others dabbing at sweaty foreheads, trying not to crumble under mounting pressures.

Outside, the muddy night undulated with snow. I watched it through the nearest arched window, mesmerised by the violent, twisting dance. The yellow moon had developed into a full-bodied orb, but it was disguised by a thick blanket of winter clouds. The only evidence of its presence tonight was a red glowing smear, at the centre of a dark brown sky. It was strangely hypnotic. Eerily beautiful.

Somehow, I managed to tear my eyes away, but I couldn't find the motivation to recommence my studies. Edward provided a very welcomed distraction. He was fully immersed in a divination textbook the colour of mustard, and wore a mask of deep concentration, licking his pale, full lips every now and then—whenever he discovered something new and surprising. It was truly adorable.

"What?" he asked with a grin, sensing my gaze. I blushed at having been caught.

"Um, nothing … I just like watching you study. You look so focused."

He chuckled lightly and looked up. "It's nice to find something that I don't already know."

"Anything interesting?" I questioned, nodding to the book.

"Yes. It gives illustrations of cosmic patterns from large historic events."

Another one? Was he planning on working through the whole of history right up to the present day?

"You should check your birthday. That was a massive event."

"I disagree."

"Edward, I'm always right, remember?" When he rolled his eyes, I poked my tongue out playfully in response. Initially, I thought I'd annoyed him—that he was unimpressed with the juvenile display, because the easiness in his posture was swiftly replaced by an irritated rigidity. Fortunately for me, his head abruptly turned in the direction of Madam Pince, who was manning the checkout desk, her mouth pinched in disapproval. She was making her way through a pile of returned books, marking the first leaf in each with a black, shiny, bulb-handled stamper.

When Edward next turned back to face me, his vibrant green eyes were alight with sudden amusement. "However tiresome it might be, I can generally forgive older appearing humans for the belief in their own superiority. With witches and wizards though, it's so absurd, it's funny."

"I don't understand."

He gave me a patient smile, before going on to explain that I'd ticked off the librarian after managing so easily to distract Edward from his studies. Apparently, the woman was nursing a soft spot for the Cullen men, Carlisle especially, owing to the fact that they'd accumulated such an extensive mental vault of knowledge during their sleepless years.

"Great," I muttered sarcastically. "Pince has a thing for intellects. You know you can't catch a break when a wrinkly old prune is crushing on your boyfriend."

"Yeah, you should totally be worrying right now," Edward nodded, mimicking the drawl of an adolescent schoolgirl. "She's hot."

I held back a giggle. "Don't be mean."

"Sorry. I am being mean, aren't I?" For a moment, he looked a little ashamed. The librarian's thoughts, however, must have continued down the same path, because he exhaled suddenly in exasperation, folding himself over his book. I arched an eyebrow, curious, yet thoroughly entertained. "She doesn't like that we're still chatting in her library, like a bunch of silly teenagers, when we should be studying diligently for our N.E.W.T.s. It's not mature, apparently."

"Well, I have an excuse. I _am _a teenager."

"And I'm about forty years older than the librarian," Edward huffed. "I don't need a lecture from her on maturity."

His tone made me chuckle, earning the two of us another reproachful scowl from Madam Pince. "You know, for an old guy, that sounded remarkably petulant."

He sent a playful wink in my direction, a grin forming on his perfectly chiselled face. "It's my inner child. He's finally getting a chance to unleash the resentment."

Rather than further incite the wrath of the elderly witch slash boyfriend watching vulture, Edward and I returned to our studies, but not before I remarked on the Cullen's surprising interest in divination. I'd expected them to find the subject useless and tiresome, based on what I'd heard from countless others in previous years, but they were all entirely fascinated, including Alice.

It was twenty to eight when Jasper and Emmett made an appearance. Just as I was beginning to finally channel the powers of research and academia, the gruesome twosome swept in from behind, breaking the quiet with the crinkling and ruffling of paper as they unexpectedly cleared the table to make way for a large, mysterious document.

"Check this out!" Emmett whispered excitedly. Even now, half way into the school year, his industrious attitude to the curriculum still shocked me. This, of course, always preceded an inevitable guilt, which never went unnoticed by the inquisitive empath. Every time I saw the resulting smirk, I flushed a deep shade of pink, and had to remind myself that my brain capacity was far smaller than that of Edward's burly brother.

The large sheet was a deep blue and as thin as tracing paper. It had hundreds of intersecting creases and was torn around the edges, where it had been handled by countless former pupils. I wondered briefly how many had folded and unfolded it over the years.

A soft yet insistent thud pulled me from my inconsequential musings, and I looked up to see Emmett's index finger pressed firmly to the bottom right corner of the document, indicating a date written in white ink.

"Nineteen-eighteen," Edward murmured, reading aloud. His eyes moved upwards, caressing the page with fervent respect. I noticed then that the frail scroll was another planetary map, a record of a night long, long ago.

Dread pooled in my stomach when Edward said next, in a voice deep and foreboding, "This was the night my heart stopped beating."

The air in my lungs gusted out with a swift 'whoosh', some of it trapping in my throat, like a suffocating glob of un-chewed food. The boys, of course, pressed on, excited and unfazed.

"Look at the positioning of Mars and Venus," Jasper instructed, pointing to two opposing spheres, both on either side of the sun. They were in perfect alignment: the giant fiery body and the two lesser ones. Earth was drifting off somewhere to the side. I sighed in relief, assuring myself that the rare arrangement had no relevance or connection with events in Chicago all those years ago. As a persistently unlucky creature, my bubble didn't last long before it burst.

"They're both equidistance from the Earth," Emmett blurted.

"And at equal angles to it," Jasper added ominously. I gulped loudly as he plucked mine and Edward's rulers from the desk, laying them with his own onto the map, so that they connected the offensive little circles like a dot-to-dot puzzle. A sour frown formed on my face as I tried not to stare at the ostensibly innocent isosceles, which may or may not have been the root to all the near death experience I had undergone during the last few years.

"Brilliant. Just brilliant."

Edward's jaw snapped together. If there had been a steel plate trapped between those venom coated teeth, it would have cracked in two. His eyes were bearing into mine, exerting a magnetism that had me frozen in place, unable to drop my gaze.

"It doesn't mean anything, Bella. I won't believe it."

The air was quiet between us, only the sound of pencils scribbling furiously against parchment and my own steady breathing to fill it. I didn't respond, because I was determined to mask the grim journey of acceptance I was currently undertaking. Edward, too, must have sensed the truth. With his mounting interest in cosmic influence, how could he now doubt Chiyoko's warning with the evidence there to corroborate its authenticity?

Earth … Edward and myself … trapped in a tug of war between the spheres … between happily ever after and the ultimate doom.

One way or another, I was going to suffer, and Edward knew it. Deep down, when the self-protective layers of denial were stripped away, the knowledge was there, eating its way to the surface.

After a lengthy awkward silence, my vampire fiancé rolled up the chart and handed it back to his burly brother, who accepted it with an expression that was both disappointed and apologetic. Jasper shifted his weight uncomfortably, probably suffering under the pulsing hostility directed at Emmett and him by a stony faced Edward. Only persistent attacks of affection would pull him from his blackened mood now.

_Let's go, _I thought at him. His perfect eyebrows arched as I stacked my books and rolled up my parchment. The harsh sound of his chair scraping over the floorboards was evidence enough of his current temper. He would never have made such a noise if he'd been in a calmer state. As I packed my things into my bag, I sent him a mental picture of our temporary haven, the one place here at the school where we could find some privacy.

On our walk to The Room of Requirement, I reflected on everything that had happened in recent weeks. Following Edward's fruitless trip to the Ministry, things had gone from bad to worse. Gryffindor, with the absence of our captain and Seeker, had lost against Hufflepuff, much to the delight of Pansy Parkinson and her cronies, all of whom continued to remind the team of the infuriating defeat.

We'd managed as best we could without Harry and Ron, enlisting Dean Thomas and Brian O'Nealie to assist us in our plight. Whilst Brian did an excellent job defending the hoops, Dean didn't possess half the flair or skill of Harry. He'd been completely outstripped by Bayle Wishart, who snatched the Snitch a hundred and seventy three gruelling minutes into the game, earning Hufflepuff the winning one hundred and fifty points. The only consolation was the point difference. At the end of the match, they had two hundred, and we had one hundred and eighty. The skills of the rival Chasers left a lot to be desired, for they rarely managed to intercept the Quaffle during play. Scoring was almost effortless for Ginny, Viola, and me. We would have wiped the floor with them if it hadn't been for the absence of our two key players.

The Cullens had been extremely supportive afterwards, aware of my dejected mood. I'd lost count of how many times Edward had praised me for my 'flawless play', as he'd put it.

_"As long as Harry catches the Snitch in the next game, there's no reason why we shouldn't still come top," _Emmett, the perpetual optimist, had enthused. I prayed that Ravenclaw upped their game the next time they faced Slytherin, otherwise it would make a Gryffindor victory much harder to achieve.

I shook thoughts of Quidditch out of my head for the moment. It reminded me too much of my hospitalised 'housemates'. Unfortunately, however, my mind began leading me down a path twice as dark and infinitely more worrisome.

Edward's revelation echoed in my mind as the two of us turned onto the Grand Staircase. I wasn't in my own body; I'd been transported back to the Cullen's living room, where I relived the moment Edward had told me we were no closer to bringing down the Death Eaters.

_"I was so sure," he'd murmured with disbelieving eyes, as if he hadn't quite managed to absorb the truth yet. "I marched out of the fireplace and the Minister was there, waiting for me. Brone was with him, standing off to the left, baby-sitting McLaggen."_

_ That was the only point throughout his entire tale when a wicked smirk threatened the harsh mould of his lovely features. The rest of the time, from the way he positioned himself on the settee—folded forwards, so that his shoulder-blades protruded against his shirt, sharp and defined like those of a cat—to his facial expression, everything about him gave testimony to an underlying bitterness. He'd wanted so badly to be right._

_ "I hadn't expected it to be so massive, or quite so crowded, but it _was _mid-day there, I suppose. Wizards and witches were going about their duties, all too busy and involved in their work to notice me. It reminded me of a hive, or an ant colony, bustling with secret activity, all that way down in the belly of London."_

_ The way he'd phrased it made the city seem like a monster, heaving and noisy: a complicated dragon made up of steely greys and earthy browns, ejecting its fiery vapours and noxious gases up into overcast skies. And the people? Vessels to feed it—to keep it alive. They moved beneath the concrete skin like oil in a machine, transported through the efficient network of veins and arteries that formed the London underground._

_ "The elevator took us to the second level, and we stepped out into a long corridor that forked into three. The Auror headquarters was at the end of the second. There was a training gallery there. It was half the size of a football field, with walls made of black marble. A completely empty space. No furniture, no decorations. Just witches and wizards, practicing their moves."_

_ "See any good duels?" Emmett demanded excitedly, leaning in from behind the couch._

_ Edward rolled his eyes. "Only briefly. One wizard got hit with a spell as we were passing through. I thought he was going to crack his skull open, because it sent him flying back. But the marble sort of … softened on impact. He bounced off it as if were a feather mattress."_

_ For some reason, all heads suddenly turned on me. Did they think I knew every spell in existence?_

_ I shrugged, caught between amusement and mild irritation._

_ "What happened next?" Esme pressed when I gave no answer._

_ "Kingsley led us to a circular assembly room. The walls there were made up entirely of chalk boards. There were notes scribbled everywhere—the collected ideas and contributions of the Aurors. They were all seated at this gigantic round table, staring daggers at me from the moment I walked in."_

_ "And Saber?" I urged._

_ Edward shook his head and glowered. "As cool as a cucumber. I went around every single person in that room, and not one of them matched the scent of the masked wizard."_

_ "What did his blood smell like?"_

_ "Cinnamon," Alice grunted, her voice retaining its musical key._

_ "And Saber's?"_

_ "Lemongrass," said Edward, "with the tiniest hint of garlic."_

_ Rosalie's nose wrinkled in disgust._

_ "Don't look like that, babe," Emmett told her. "Sounds like man smell to me."_

_ I scoffed. "Lemongrass? Seriously?"_

_ "Don't listen to him," his glorious lover instructed with a roll of her eyes. "There's no such thing as a man smell when it comes to blood. When I found him in the forest after the bear attack, he reeked of daisies and vanilla."_

_ Never would I have expected to see the behemoth vampire pout, but that was what Rosalie's teasing inspired. She laughed without regret at the betrayal._

_ That aside, the visit turned out to be a waste. According to Edward, Saber reacted no differently to any of his colleagues. His pulse had accelerated, but so had everyone else's. That was only to be expected, after all, when one was in the presence of a vampire stranger._

_ Kingsley informed Edward afterwards that they couldn't even arrest the suspect for foul play. The only evidence they had was Edward's interpretation of Alpheus' dream, which was nowhere near enough. Until Saber slipped up, or they had something solid to justify apprehending him, he was a free man. Alpheus Truman, on the other hand, had been admitted to St Mungo's where he was undergoing treatment to restore his senses._

An unexpected yet gentle shake to my shoulders roused me from my trance. Somehow, Edward and I had managed to make it all the way to our sanctuary without me noticing.

"Bella, are you alright? You've been quiet." Edward moved closer, until he towered over me, the slight tilt of his head and indicator of his concern.

"I was just thinking," I said dumbly, scraping a hand through my hair. The obvious statement gave birth to a short, awkward pause. Edward continued to stare at me, as rigid and inflexible as granite as he awaited an elaboration.

I shrugged casually and lied. "Just Quidditch."

I didn't miss the way his guarded eyes narrowed, even though it was by an infinitesimal amount. Perhaps he doubted my answer, believing instead that I was still dwelling on the star map his brothers had found, because the way he raked his gaze over my face gave the impression that he was searching for signs of dishonesty. The fib was too believable though, considering how seriously I took the game. Did it matter more than the chance of mortal peril?

Absolutely.

He sighed in quiet relief, before pulling me over to the giant four-poster, the one we had already visited so many times before. The harp had materialised too, and was strumming out a soothing lullaby by the amber glow of the fire. After kicking off our shoes and dumping our bags onto the plush carpet, we slid onto the mammoth bed, where we sank languorously together onto the sea of luxurious pillows, which, together, completely concealed the ivory duvet's upper third.

"You know … even if you don't beat Slytherin," Edward began, thus receiving the terrifying Swan scowl of doom. When my nostrils started flaring, he backtracked quickly, possibly fearing that I'd burst a blood vessel. "I mean … I don't want you to feel pressured."

I chuckled at his correction and relaxed back into his arms. His wintry hold provided a perfect balance against the heat of the flames dancing in the fireplace. "I know you're only trying to be kind, but that's just an inevitable part of sport. You're always going to disappoint someone if you lose. I knew that at tryouts. Whatever it takes, Edward," I vowed, meeting his emerald gaze, "I'll do it."

I couldn't decide what effect my promise had on him. He must have been wondering what lengths I'd go to to win, because he was, quite simply, a natural born worrier. He gave little away though as we rested there together on the bed; only his pursed lips offered any indication of what was going on beneath the surface. I concluded that he was acknowledging the pledge with uncomfortable acceptance. When I said 'anything', he knew I wasn't exaggerating. That didn't necessarily mean he had to like it.

Burying myself against his neck, I set about fulfilling the highly important visualisation exercise that I had spontaneously set myself: one hundred ways to foul a Slytherin.

**EPOV**

Whilst I was extremely tempted to break the silence, desperate as I was for the sound of Bella's voice (the perfect distraction from the impossible number of maddening thoughts accumulating in my brain), I was more concerned with preserving the expression of pleasant concentration that had formed on her face. She looked incredibly peaceful and, every now and then, a blissful smile would grace her lips. She must have been thinking happy thoughts, and who was I to interrupt them? Besides that, I found that the sight of her tranquil face alone provided sufficient remedy for my perturbed wonderings.

Her shoes lay abandoned on the floor. She wore her uniform: a white collared button-down paired with a red and gold Gryffindor tie, beneath which was her black skirt and grey woollen tights.

When I looked at myself beside her, I had to smile. I was really beginning to appreciate the harmony offered by the school uniform. It was easier to pretend that I was just a regular guy this way, in my clean, yet slightly wrinkled shirt, my tie, and my dark pants, sprawled out next to an extraordinary girl.

I closed my eyes, and thought of nothing but that.

It was two hours later when I left the Gryffindor common room. Bella had retired to her dormitory with her friends. She had left me at the foot of the staircase, climbing away with Parvati and Lavender, the second of which talked excitedly of her upcoming date with boyfriend Bayle Wishart. Lavender and Bayle would be attending Hogsmeade together during the Valentine's visit. It was something that I, too, was looking forward to. I had yet to share that holiday with Bella, since I'd been unforgivably absent the first time around.

I picked out her heartbeat from amongst the girls, listening to that and her breathing. It wasn't until I recognised sound of sleep that I rose from my armchair and made my way out through the portrait hole.

The Fat Lady was missing from her frame, something that was happening more and more frequently these days. Her friend, Violet, had received a barrel of single malt whiskey from the monks situated not far from the kitchens, and now the two were meeting up every night after curfew to try and deplete the supplies.

It had taken me a full half hour to get through the portrait hole two nights ago. I'd been visiting Carlisle, because I was trying to help him with the Longbottom case, which had so far produced no results. Upon returning to Gryffindor tower, I found its guardian in such a deep sleep, that no amount of shouting could wake her. In the end, I was forced to enlist the help of the painted brass band located by the Charms classroom. A loud trumpet to the ear and the strident clashing of cymbals eventually did the trick.

Unfortunately, it then took me an extra ten minutes to get The Fat Lady to listen to anything I had to say, for she was intent on telling me all about her thrilling night with 'Vi' and the dashing Sir Cadogen. When she did, finally, stop long enough to accept the password, she was so intoxicated that I had to wait an additional five minutes whilst she figured out how to swing open. The next morning, she was in a very bad mood, and spent the majority of the day groaning about 'the world's worst hangover'. I seriously hoped I wasn't likely to see a repeat performance.

I searched the castle for vampire minds, and located six immediately. My sisters were currently visiting our adoptive parents. Esme was sat on one of the large sofas in her office, the unmarked essays of her students piled high on each side of her. Carlisle was examining the brain scans of Neville's parents yet again. He'd already looked over them countless times after completing a set of MRI scans in Seattle. According to the scans, there were large areas of Alice's and Frank's brains that weren't working properly, but their temporal regions, in particular, had suffered.

"_Acute memory impairment?" I'd offered the night of the Fat Lady's binge, pointing to the temporal lobe on Frank's scan, which showed a serious lack of activity._

"_It would seem that way," Carlisle murmured, blue eyes glued to the image. "This pattern is similar to the kind you see with Alzheimer patients."_

"_Do you think it's curable?"_

_He weaved a hand through his hair and sighed. _Honestly, Edward, I have absolutely no idea. By the looks of this, I'd say that the reason for the Longbottoms' condition isn't because their brains were damaged by magic; I think it was a self-protecting reaction.

"_How do you mean?" I asked. Carlisle's eyes narrowed as he thought._

_After a second or two, he said, "I can't be certain, of course, but imagine a small child sitting in front of a television whilst a scary movie is playing."_

_I nodded._

"_Now, the film becomes so graphic and terrifying that the child can no longer stand to watch it; and so, he snatches up the remote, and hits standby, thereby, in effect, cutting himself off from what he perceives as threatening."_

"_So, what you're saying," I answered, my eyes shifting from the pensive features of my father, back to the scans, "is that Frank and Alice went into standby mode to protect themselves from Bellatrix's curse."_

"_Precisely. I suspect that it's similar to what must have happened with our Alice in the asylum."_

_I flinched at the reminder. Carlisle, too, looked far from happy. Neither of us wanted to imagine my sister having to endure a similar torture to the one the Longbottoms had suffered._

"_The individual goes into shock. To protect themselves, all memory of the trauma is erased. Unfortunately, in this case, that trauma was so severe that the parts of Frank's and Alice's brains that control memory have yet to turn back on. They're still in standby. The memory block even extends as far as language, and as of yet, I haven't a single clue how to restore those cognitive abilities."_

"_They're like the opposite of us," I said, defeated._

_My father turned to me, his brow furrowing with confusion._

_I smiled sadly. "We have no future, only a past and a present. They're moving forwards, but have no connection to their past. As soon as one moment passes, it's lost to them."_

That was the theory anyway. Carlisle riffled through the book in his lap, reading of magic through the spyglass Bella had bought him at Christmas time. Each page, however, showed no promise of helpful information.

Rosalie and Alice were spread out on the floor of our parents' office, working on the latest assignment issued by Professor Vector. The boys, on the other hand, were up at the top of the astronomy tower, scanning the cloudless sky.

The image of their faces brought my anger back to the boil. I could hardly believe that they'd been so stupid as to show that damned star chart to Bella, without stopping to think of the conclusions she might draw from it.

My feet flew over the stone floor, propelling me through the castle, towards the imbeciles I called my brothers. On the way, I passed Peeves and Sir Nicholas. I was travelling so fast that they failed to notice me, though it might have been down to the fact that they were too deep into their conversation, if it could be called that. I heard the argument clearly as I continued to twist down each new corridor. The poltergeist was cheerfully receiving a telling-off from the Gryffindor ghost for turning the Scotsman's portrait upside down. Unfortunately for the kilted wizard, he had spent his life as a bit of a traditionalist, which meant that those occupying nearby canvases got a bit of an eyeful.

Jasper and Emmett heard me coming well before I reached the entrance to the astronomy tower.

"It's Edward," Emmett sighed, closing his sketchbook, in which he'd plotted a very accurate copy of the stars and their position in the sky. "None of the others can run that fast."

Jasper nodded in agreement, his body tensing expectantly._ That sprint sounds like it has some purpose … We must be in for it._

_Yes, you are, dear brother. Yes, you are!_

The doors burst open as I collided with them, creating two abrupt bangs as they swung on their hinges against the curving stone wall. The sound was thunderous in the otherwise tranquil night.

"Were you two dropped on your heads at birth," I fumed, "or are you just morons by nature!"

At the very top of the tower, my brothers popped suddenly over the edge of the stairs.

_Seriously, bro, you need to turn it down; unless, of course, your aim is to wake up the entire school?_

After aiming a long, venomous glare at Emmett, who registered it with an air of indifference, I sped up the spiral structure to meet him, travelling like a bullet fired into a tornado.

"You could've waited until Bella wasn't around to show me that thing," I hissed, once we were face to face.

"It concerned her too, Edward," Jasper pointed out.

"That doesn't mean she had to know! You've probably convinced her now that mortal peril is waiting around every corner. Well done!"

Emmett's frosty eyes gave a bored roll. "Don't be so dramatic."

A guttural snarl ripped through my teeth, whilst my fists balled at my sides. When a sudden wave of calm washed over me, however, courtesy of Jasper, they loosened a little.

"Look," Emmett continued, stepping away from the balustrade, which he had been casually relaxing against since my arrival, "whatever Bella's destiny is, we can't prevent it from happening. All we can do is prepare her for it."

"We don't even know what _it _is! We don't even know if there is an _it _to prepare for in the first place!"

"So, what, all this is just a massive coincidence?"

"Yes!"

Emmett rejected my argument with a noise of disgust, and said, "Get real, Edward."

That was the moment I snapped. Even with Jasper dulling the heat of my anger, I knew what I _should _have been feeling, which was precisely why I pulled back my arm and smashed it into Emmett's face. The move was so swift and powerful that there was no way he ever could have hoped to avoid or deflect it. With a resounding crack, my ape of a brother was thrust into the air. It was immensely satisfying to watch him arc up and away from me, rendered helpless by the forces acting upon his immortal body. Gravity should have sent him plummeting down the tower's middle. To my utter astonishment, however, he collided with some invisible solid just as the descent was beginning, the impact resulting in a loud, unexpected thud.

"Umph!" _What the—!_

Jasper and I stood motionless, propelled into complete and utter shock. The urge to rub my eyes (just to be sure I wasn't imaging it) was almost impossible to ignore.

Emmett, meanwhile, threw up his arms at blinding speed, grabbing a hold of the mysterious obstacle, thereby suspending himself mid-air. "Um …"

After a moment, curiosity overtook confusion, and he effortlessly pulled himself up in one graceful motion, until he was standing, as opposed to dangling limply.

"Em?" Jasper probed.

With my anger now forgotten, I watched, entranced, as our weighty brother explored the air with the tip of his foot, his balance never faltering as he stretched gracefully like an experienced performer.

"It's some kind of walkway," he declared excitedly, moving towards us. Eventually, he reached the place where the circular staircase ended, and leant against the balustrade separating the visible from the invisible. "They connect."

"But what's it for?" I wondered.

Emmett shrugged cheerfully. "No idea. Let's find out!"

I didn't argue, nor did Jasper. We leapt over the divider without hesitation, and, in single file, with Emmett as our leader, we followed the winding path he had already mapped out for us, proceeding more slowly when we reached uncharted territory. The way was narrow and s-shaped, hard beneath our feet. It cut directly through the centre of the tower, and lead us to the side opposite the one we'd started at, ending at a section of wall home to a conveniently placed wall torch.

Emmett whirled on the spot to face us, his lips pulled up in a giant toothy grin. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You know it," I answered, equally enthusiastic. His eyes glittered like frosty diamonds, swimming with an unquenchable desire for adventure. He spun once more, reaching up as he did to close his fingers around the iron sconce. Through his mind, I watched his fingers graze along a small patch of metal, which had been embossed with the shape of a cat. The image was similar to that of an old Egyptian hieroglyph.

Curious.

To my immense frustration, Emmett hesitated, intent on building and prolonging the suspense. Orange flames danced against the shadows, flickering periodically—a silent beckon. I held my breath.

Finally, when the excitement grew too painful to bear—a new, separate entity, nourished by the vampire empath—Emmett ended it. With a clichéd, but deeply welcomed click, the trigger pulled forwards, away from the wall, like something you'd expect to see in an old black and white horror. And then, in the same way that the brick wall behind the Leaky Cauldron had divided in two, forming the entryway to Diagon Alley, the stone blocks began to tremble and shake, creating an almighty rumble that reverberated down to the very foundations of the astronomy tower.

The others would hear it, surely. I jumped to Alice's mind, expecting to find her alert. She was completely oblivious though, as were the others, to the thunderous event occurring before my eyes. What had initially started out as a rather generic wall transformed into something else entirely. The bricks folded outwards, forming a small, perfect archway, through which we glimpsed the first few steps of a secret stairway, built into the walls of Hogwarts.

_How could we not have known about this? _Jasper thought incredulously, remembering the destruction that had occurred during the battle against Voldemort.

"God only knows what magic there is protecting this place," I murmured. Cautiously, my brothers and I edged forwards, so that we could peer around the corner. The second our heads crossed the threshold, molten light erupted through the narrow passage as half a dozen extra torches spontaneously ignited, illuminating the curving path until it swept out of view.

For what seemed like hours, the three of us stood in total awe, rendered silent by sheer surprise, until, finally, Emmett whispered, "Dreams really do come true."

A child through and through.

"What do you suppose is down there?" asked Jasper, listening hard for signs of life. I searched too, but found not even the hint of a foreign mind.

"Only one way to find out," said Emmett, before stepping into the passage, ready to pursue adventure. That was all he'd ever asked of life, and there it was, offered up on a silver platter.

There were no windows within the hidden stairway—no points of light, save for the flames, which were lit at regular intervals. In addition, it was free of dust and cobwebs; even the tiny creatures you'd expect to find in such a place, apparently, had yet to venture there.

_There's no recent scent, _Jasper noted. _I wonder how long it's been since someone came down here._

Two minutes into our descent, the odour and flavour of the air underwent a perceptible change. I could taste the stagnant moisture on my tongue, and earthy tones were strong in my nose. We'd made the transition from above ground to below it, and now we were travelling deeper and deeper into the earth. Jasper and Emmett also caught the change, but neither commented.

The steady curve of the tunnel was consistent, continuing until we reached the very bottom step, a full five minutes after we'd entered. A long, straight corridor lay before us, the walls of which were draped in clean, white linen, perfectly preserved, though it must have been decades old at the very least. I wanted to run it through my fingers, just to be sure it was real, but I was too afraid that it would crumble to dust if I did.

I hesitated with my brothers at the foot of the stairs. We stared down the corridor to the very end—about thirty metres away—where it opened up into a new chamber. The tunnel was too narrow to provide a clear indication of the room's size, but a feeling in my gut told me it was going to be impressive.

I was right.

Did my jaw hit the floor? I had absolutely no idea. I was too busy gawking at the cathedral-sized hall I was standing in, the walls of which, along with the two rows of supporting columns, were made entirely of gold. The resplendent décor, however, wasn't the most astonishing feature by far. Despite the fast car and the multiple off-shore bank accounts, I was no materialist. Wealth and treasure were not fundamental to my happiness.

Contained within the chamber, reaching a staggering height of seventy feet, was the largest sphinx I had ever seen in my entire existence. Every part of the colossal monolith was intricately sculpted and entirely undamaged, unlike the monument still standing on the Giza Plateau. That, of course, was only to be expected, when one considered the phenomenal shelter protecting it from weathering and erosion.

The sphinx lay flat on her belly, the proud head of a woman supported by the powerful body of a lion.

I wanted to say something—to translate my wonder into speech—but the words got lodged in my throat, blocked by an overwhelming sense of amazement.

Emmett was the first to approach the sphinx. Her ancient, limestone eyes stared on blindly, and, yet, they were still, somehow, piercing and severe. I found myself relieved that they weren't cast down.

Jasper chuckled beside me. "Nervous, Edward?"

"No more than you, brother," I answered wryly, listening to his thoughts. Emmett, who was too absorbed with the discovery, failed to pay the exchange much notice.

_What could possibly motivate someone to build a sphinx this size beneath a school? And in Britain?_

"Interesting questions," I agreed. "The sphinx was never a part of the native mythology."

"Who says they're mythological?" he answered with his back to me.

Point taken.

He reached out carefully to touch the creature's paw, urged by a building fascination that only physical contact could satisfy. I held my breath as his skin brushed the stone. Why I was so on edge, I had absolutely no idea; still, I was tense enough that a moment later, when I decided my brother's raging curiosity wasn't about to awaken the beast, I sighed heavily with relief.

The sound of Jasper's ensuing mirth echoed down the chamber again. Light reflected off his skin and teeth in a peculiar way, seeming to cast a subtle golden aura about him. Unlike before, his laughter was light and airy, having lost its initial nervous undertone. This time, Emmett joined in, as did I.

With our guard lowered, none of us were prepared for the cavernous roar that exploded suddenly through the hall, like the deep rumble of an earthquake. It drowned out our cheerful chorus, and had each of us crouching defensively, ready to attack if the situation called for it. Emmett was lightning quick as he bolted back to my side, aligning himself with Jasper and me.

The sphinx tossed and rolled her head, emitting a snarl that shook the pillars of her golden home. As she did, her stone skin began to fragment, spliting and crumbling over and over, until it resembled the cracked terrain of a desert; and then, inexplicably, the rock dissolved, leaving behind a remnant limey haze, enshrouded in which was the newly hatched creature herself.

My brothers and I, three flies in the den of a spider, stared up at the angry sphinx like deer caught in the headlights. She returned our disbelieving gazes with a furious glare, her eyes as golden and fiery as the blazing sun. Her hair was as black as jet, and looked as silky as spider thread. It fell down over her shoulders, where bronzed human skin met with her lion coat.

_She's looking at us like we're breakfast, _Jasper panicked, feeding of our collective fear. I wanted to remind him that we were vampires, but I wasn't entirely sure what that counted for anymore, especially when you were facing an ancient monster a third the size of Godzilla. The sphinx _was _bigger than us; was she stronger too? Did my species really sit at the top of the food chain, or were we all suffering from total ignorance yet again?

"Should we introduce ourselves?" Emmett whispered, so low that even _I _had trouble hearing.

"Don't bother!" the sphinx snapped, her shimmering lips curling back. "I already know who you are!"

The sound of her voice left me momentarily disarmed, and I straightened out of my predatory crouch. Even whilst it was tinged with anger, it possessed an incredibly pleasant texture, warm, thick, and rich, like treacle or chocolate syrup.

"Why are you here?" she spat. "What do you want?"

Because I could hear both of my brothers' thoughts, I nominated myself to act as speaker. "We discovered the entrance by accident," I admitted, stepping forwards, uncertain as to whether I should look her in the eye. Carefully, I peeked at her from beneath my lashes. "We just wanted to know where the tunnel led."

When I fully met the sphinx's majestic gaze, I couldn't decide whether the sense of inferiority that suddenly washed through me was my own doing, or the result of some strange magic. Whatever the cause, I felt an overwhelming impulse to appease the creature, who was now looking down at Jasper, Emmett and me in the same way a human might observe three annoying insects.

Because it was second nature, I searched for a new mind, unable to stop myself. Aside from those of my brothers, though, all I detected in that enormous, subterranean lair was a high-pitched ringing, similar to the sonar of a bat, only this was even higher, barely discernable. As I'd once said to Bella, perhaps it was possible for minds to work on two separate frequencies. House elves were on the AM channel; did that apply to sphinxes as well?

"You're trespassing," the creature stated matter-of-factly, "which means you're obligated to answer my riddle. If you refuse, or you produce the wrong answer … I'll attack."

She flashed a menacing smile, revealing two rows of pearly, white teeth. Her canines were sharp and elongated, like those of the stereotypical vampire. They glistened threateningly in the light, a silent warning of the potentially massive danger that we three immortals had placed ourselves in.

"What riddle?"

The sphinx's smile widened. _"I creep up on my victims, sometimes swiftly, others slowly, for I am always patient, or so they say. No creature can outrun me. Some choose to fight, but I always win, even though I am blind. Men will kill for me. I have killed many a man, for I have lived since the dawn of time; and, yet, I am not indestructible. If I don't die young though, I will probably live forever. What am I?"_

The sphinx crossed her front paws, lounging leisurely as she awaited our answer. My brothers and I, meanwhile, traded looks of bewilderment.

"Are we allowed to confer?" Jasper questioned.

"Your brother's a mind reader, isn't he? I'm sure he can pick out a suitable answer _without _disturbing the quiet."

My teeth slammed together, grinding furiously.

_Great._

Not only had the sphinx placed the responsibility of averting violence solely on my shoulders, she'd also flaunted her insight right in our faces, wearing an expression of supreme smugness all the while. How could she possibly know of my abilities unless she was a mind reader herself?

Jasper and Emmett repeated the riddle in their heads over and over, sifting through all their accumulated knowledge and memories for the correct answer.

_No creature can outrun me, _thought Emmett. _A vampire, surely, and we are immortal, after all, so that fits with the bit about living forever._

That part made sense. Unfortunately …

_I've never met a blind vampire._

The two of us sighed together in frustration. Jasper, on the other hand, was compiling a list of all the things humans would kill for.

…_Good looks, money, power, religion …_

_What is blind? _I wondered. _What is blind that men will kill for? What would I kill for? Bella. Bella … What is blind that— _I stiffened suddenly. The riddle echoed in my head, the answer now seeming painfully obvious, flashing like a neon sign. "Love."

My brother's heads snapped in my direction.

"The answer is love," I told them. "You're never prepared for it. It creeps up on you, and you can't outrun it. I should know that better than anyone."

Emmett grinned. "Love is blind. People kill for love, Victoria and you being the perfect examples. You can fall out of love, and so it dies young …"

"Or it lives into old age," Jasper smiled victoriously, "as we know best."

The sphinx chuckled lowly. "Very good," she said. "Very good, indeed. I guess this means you get to live."

"Would you have been able to kill us anyway?" Emmett smiled.

"You'll never know now, will you?" Her tail gently caressed the air, but after a moment or two, it gave an irritated flick, the movement jarring with the otherwise fluid motion. A sigh of annoyance abruptly escaped the sphinx's mouth. "All these years—a millennium of peace—and the first time I get woken up, it's by a bunch of nosy, meddling vampires. I knew admitting your family into Hogwarts was a bad idea. Bah!"

"How do you even know about that?" Jasper inquired, inching forwards.

The sphinx smirked, oozing arrogance. "I know everything. I'm six thousand years old."

_Great. Now I feel even smaller. _"What's the relevance of your age," I asked, feeling petulant, "if you've been down here sleeping for a thousand years?"

"Only my body has been hidden here," she explained calmly. Like a snake, her long tail moved forwards through the air, and swept back her inky mane, preventing it from draping across her face. "Astral projection is a gift belonging to all sphinxes. We can command our spirits to leave our bodies at will, and whilst we wander the earth, invisible to the eyes of the world, our physical shell turns to stone. Unless we choose to stay within our bodies, we remain immortal. This is also the reason for our omniscience. We know the secrets of history, and because we can communicate telepathically with other, wiser spirits, some of whom can wander back and forth through time, most of us have seen the future too."

I must have looked like a total dimwit as I stood there, staring up at the ancient Egyptian, trying to absorb her revelation. It was an altogether mindboggling notion, almost impossible to accept. Of course, I then remembered that I was standing in a room worth more than every palace on British soil, buried hundreds of feet beneath a school that happened to employ centaurs, vampires, and half giants to teach its students. Astral projection, it turned out, wasn't all that far-fetched.

"So … so where were you just now?"

The sphinx frowned at my rudeness. "That isn't really any of your concern, but, if you must know, I was attending a UN convention in New York. I take an interest in world affairs."

"Anything good?" Emmett chuckled, completely at ease, his head cocked slightly to the side.

"Same old, same old: leaders discussing global warming without the intention of doing anything; everyone threatening Iran; Iran ignoring everyone; the Americans pointing the finger at the British over BP; the British shouting that the company is controlled largely by American shareholders, etcetera, etcetera."

"How did you know to come _here _though?" I emphasised, indicating the golden hall with a wave of my hand.

The sphinx huffed. "What is this: twenty questions? I'm the one who should be demanding answers. There I was, minding my own business—well, not really," she conceded, when my brow arched with incredulousness. "Alright, there I was, enjoying the world politics evening special—"

_She makes it sound like a bad TV drama, _Emmett mused, trying not to laugh.

"—and, all of a sudden, I have to jump thousands of miles because my shell is putting out an alarm like you wouldn't believe!"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I'd never imagined meeting a giant talking sphinx before, but if I had, she certainly wouldn't have possessed the character of a middle-aged gossip, nor would she have slipped at random from formal speech into something dotted with colloquialisms.

"Technically, _we're _the ones that should be asking the questions," Emmett sniggered, "since, according to you, you already know everything."

The golden eyes of the sphinx narrowed to slits, whilst her tail gave a fierce jolt above her head, flicking forwards like the sting of a scorpion. "I _do _know everything," she hissed, regal and authoritative once more. "More than you could possibly imagine."

My daring brother, regardless of intrigue, knew better than to provoke the creature when her voice promised so much danger. He wasn't afraid of her, because he was still convinced that our species was the most powerful and deadly on the planet. Despite that, he knew, as did Jasper and I, that the sphinx deserved respect. None of us wished to offend her, especially since doing so would likely produce zero answers; and so, rather than requesting that she demonstrate her knowledge, the three of us waited, standing side by side in patient silence, and allowed her to make the next move. This, it appeared, pleased her, for her face softened considerably.

"My name is Akharet," she said, after an initial pause. "Before I came here, my home was Egypt. I guarded a temple of Osiris in the upper kingdom, and was revered by the people, who gave offerings and libations to thank me for my services.

"I had walked the earth for four thousand years, and not once in that time did I ever meet a threat; but the world was changing in frightening ways."

"Religious disquiet?" I guessed, doing the math.

Akharet smiled, but it was similar to that an adult might show a child—patient, and a little indulgent. "Turmoil was threatening the Muggle world," she continued with glazed eyes. "Back then, Paganism was everywhere. It wasn't uncommon to practice sorcery, and even those who hadn't been born with magical abilities did so. Their spells were ineffective, of course, but no one was persecuted for performing incantations.

"Because the dividing lines between the magical and non-magical community was less defined, however, there was a massive danger that the two would merge, and give birth to a new social hierarchy, where witches and wizards would rule over Muggle slaves."

The sphinx's face grew sourer the deeper into the story she delved, her golden lips pinching at the resentful memory. I hung on her every word, immersed in this new version of history.

"Something had to be done," she hissed, shaking her head. "Those with the power were abusing it, failing to adhere to their responsibilities. It was a large enough crisis that a council of spirits was called to tackle the problem.

"It was then that we resolved to push the Muggle people in a new direction … to encourage a faith already beginning to take shape, one that would set the boundaries once and for all. We spent years—all of us: the sphinxes, the genii, the totems, and so on—whispering to the souls of the Muggles we protected, repaying them for their devotion…

"We set them free." The tone of Akharet's voice conjured the image of a mother bidding her child goodbye. It inspired an overwhelming sense of loss, which seemed to resonate deep inside me, at my very core. I suddenly understood how easy it would prove for the sphinx and her spirit friends to influence mortal and immortal souls. Even I, a vampire, was not immune to her magic.

"What happened then?" Jasper urged gently, looking deflated.

Akharet exhaled a deep and heavy sigh. "They turned on us. The Muggles were all too eager to break away, and when they did—once Christianity, Islam and the rest had gathered enough momentum, they set about eradicating the evidence of Paganism. They desecrated temples, destroyed monuments that had stood for thousands of years … You get the idea.

"That's how I ended up here," she admitted, her golden eyes narrowing with fury.

"What do you mean?" I pressed.

"About a thousand years ago, a group of self-righteous Christians were storming their way through Europe. They'd already caused more than enough damage by the time they reached Egypt. Because of our commitment, we great sphinxes couldn't simply get up and walk away when our bodies were threatened. There are many sizes amongst my kind, in the same way that there are a number of different sized cats. The smaller, less conspicuous sphinxes could easily slink away in the middle of the night. Anyone who saw them simply confused them with lions."

"But no one could mistake you for a lion," Emmett finished.

"Precisely," Akharet nodded. "Being seen would have meant jeopardising the new order. Because of our oath, most were destroyed, and their spirits trapped for eternity on the astral plane. I, on the other hand, was lucky."

I took another step forwards, sensing the end to the tale. Akharet grinned at my enthusiasm.

"My white knight appeared in the form of Rowena Ravenclaw. She was one amongst the many crusading witches and wizards trying to protect the old spirits. She offered to bring me to Hogwarts, and conceal me beneath the school. In return, I bestowed magical powers upon her diadem, so that the wearer would enjoy supreme intellect. My body has rested here ever since." Here, Akharet ended her history, and lowered her head to the ground, where it rested lazily in front of her on her crossed paws.

Her heart pumped out a loud beat, deep and strong against my ears. It immediately conjured images of a large bass drum, one constantly working to a largo tempo.

Like a set of cogs turning too quickly, Emmett's mind was working furiously. He had a hundred questions swirling through his mind, all at the same time, but he couldn't decide which one he wanted to ask first. When he finally did speak, the urge to slap myself was almost too difficult to ignore.

"Who _really _killed Kennedy?"

Akharet threw back her head, unleashing a gush of bellowing laughter. Jasper and I, on the other hand, ducked our heads in embarrassment.

"All the questions in the history of the world," I whispered, "and you ask who shot JFK!"

Quite rightly, Emmett raked a hand threw his curly hair, clearly uncomfortable after his silly question. That in itself was a rare sight, unless, of course, Rosalie had something to do with it. My sister had a talent for making others uneasy. Her husband was a sucker for punishment.

"How about a deal?" Akharet said a moment later, once she'd gotten over my brother's gaffe. I was immediately wary. "I don't particularly want anyone else around here finding out about my crib."

And here we were again, persona switching from mighty temple guardian to modern TV addict.

"MTV?" I interrupted, my brow peaking.

She smirked at my humour. "I roll with the times, dog."

"Ah, touché."

"Indeed. As I was saying, I propose a deal."

"We're listening," Jasper encouraged. His piercing, grey eyes snapped to meet mine, before shifting back again. _Agree to nothing, Edward. We must be cautious._

I nodded. He saw the motion through his periphery.

The sphinx rose, stretching out of her casual sprawl, until she sat regally once again, with a posture that reinforced an 'all business' attitude. "I will offer each of you the chance to ask one question, which I will answer truthfully, providing that you swear, under magical oath, never to speak a word regarding anything you have seen or heard tonight to anyone else."

Disappointment instantly welled deep in my chest. It must have shown in the set of my face, because the sphinx gave me a knowing look, her full lips turning down in disapproval. I glanced at my brothers; they, too, looked a little dejected. We'd all been eager to share our discovery with the others. I especially regretted that Carlisle wouldn't get to hear the story. He would have been enthralled.

The offer was too irresistible to decline though, as Akharet knew only too well. Her tail moved fluidly through the air, evidencing her confidence.

We didn't disappoint.

The second I'd nodded my assent, radiant white light flooded the room, flaring from the eyes of the great, ancient sphinx. It shone with such brilliancy that all evidence of the previous liquid gold was removed. The light was like that of a patronus. When it washed against my supposedly impenetrable skin, the only adequate phrase I could find to describe the sensation was a 'warm, soothing invasion'. Instead of reflecting off my white, vampiric body as it should have, it penetrated everything corporeal.

I could feel the magic binding itself to me as I made the oath with Jasper and Emmett. By the time we were finished, I knew that the spell had been successful. I would never utter a word to anyone about my meeting with Akharet for as long as I lived.

"Right, who's first?" she said enthusiastically, eager to demonstrate her vast knowledge. Jasper was quick to step forwards. He'd already decided on his question, and it was one that I, too, desperately wished to have answered.

"If there is one, what is the cure for vampirism?"

I couldn't read the sphinx's expression as she stared down at the empath, who beseeched her with palms faced upwards, as if in prayer.

Finally, after drawing a deep breath, she said, "There is a cure."

Emmett inhaled sharply.

"Rather … there used to be."

Something shattered inside me. It seemed the equivalent of hearing a million balloons explode in the very same second. The bulging, delicious hope preceded nothing but a dark, oppressive vacuum … an emptiness.

Akharet gave a sad smile of apology. "The first vampire was made from a thousand natural poisons," she said. On the meagre upside, at least she'd confirmed for us the story of Lilith. "The cure was quite simple, yet complex, as strange as that sounds."

"What was it?" Emmett pushed. _Why the past tense? I don't understand._

"For every poison, there was an antidote. Basilisk venom, for example, requires phoenix tears. To return a vampire to human form, the thousand anti-venoms would have to be administered together, injected all at once, straight into the heart. The second transformation would be slower than the first, for the heart would need time to fully absorb the serum before reanimating. The three day process would begin following a twelve hour prelude. The pain would be just as excruciating—a demonic cold, capable of quenching the thirst forever, and restoring mortality."

My breath came in quick and shallow bursts. The cure sounded logical. Besides Bella, I had never wanted anything so badly in all my life.

"The only problem," the sphinx explained, "is that some of the plants and creatures that provided the essential ingredients became extinct long ago." She shook her head and sighed, her lustrous eyes swelling with pity. "I'm sorry, but your chance of a cure died out with them."

Right then, I would've hated to be Jasper. My own grief felt as if it would crush me, even though I hadn't really lost anything. What must it have been like for the empath, who was burdened with that same load three times over? I selfishly tried not to intrude on his thoughts. When he sagged under the weight of our regret, I reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, we have forever with the girls."

He nodded without returning my gaze, but I could tell that he took immense comfort from the knowledge that Alice would never leave him.

Emmett stepped forward. Sadness was etched along his frame—in the way he carried himself: shoulders slumped forwards, arms hanging limply at his sides. "Does that mean then … that there's no magic in existence that could give my wife—a vampire—a child of her own?"

Akharet perked up suddenly. "Ah, now that's more like it!"

Huh?

"It is absolutely possible for vampire women to conceive, as long as the correct methodology is applied."

…

_WHAT!_

Emmett leapt forwards, his stance a copy of Jasper's, palms turned up in supplication. "What methodology?" His tone screamed 'desperation', for which I couldn't blame him.

"Ah, but you've already asked your question, Emmett."

"Yes, and you didn't give me a full answer," he growled through glistening teeth.

"I think you'll find I did," hissed the sphinx.

Panic invaded my brother's thoughts. He'd been cheated! I wanted to jump forwards and argue his case. He had asked a straight question; the sphinx, maddeningly, had given him a direct answer, revealing as little as she could get away with in the process.

When Emmett realised he'd blown his one chance to find a solution to Rosalie's problem, he immediately turned to me. "Please, Edward. I'm begging you! Please, ask her how to do it. Bella might want a baby too one day. Please!"

I couldn't look him in the eye. I couldn't bear to see the sheer desperation that I knew would be etched across every inch of his face. On the one hand, he had a point: Bella might want a baby one day, in the same way that my mother and sister craved children of their own; on the other hand, if there really was a massive threat drawing ever closer to the girl I loved, I had to know how to protect her. What use would it be to dream of children if Bella wasn't going to be around long enough to have them?

_Edward, please._ He grabbed my arm in silent plea. _Please._

"Emmett." At the sound of his name, my brother turned to face the sphinx. Her golden eyes swan with pity as she looked down upon him. "Edward has his own question to ask. Besides, you don't need his help to find the answer. You'll discover it sooner than you think … after Venus makes her path across the sun."

_Argh! Enough with the cryptic comments already!_ I thought, seriously contemplating the idea of smashing my head against one of the supporting pillars.

It was strange to see the weariness that suddenly overcame my brother. Emmett was effervescent by nature, filled with a cheer that grew like a mountain stream, gathering force until it became a mighty, tumbling river, gushing with energy. Tonight, his exuberance had run dry.

"You can't know that," he whispered. He stood with eyes cast down, a true indication of his current dejectedness.

"Of course I can," the sphinx purred, pity transforming into a wide smile of encouragement. "Your family is generating quite a bit of talk on the astral plane. A few months ago, it was all about Harry Potter; now, it's the Cullens. You're a hot topic."

"Why?" I asked quickly.

Akharet stifled a giggle. "Is that your question?"

My eyes shot wide with panic. "No! No, it isn't."

This time, she did laugh, the sound thick like caramel. Her good mood must have made her generous, for when she turned back to my brother, she gazed at him speculatively, and said, "You know what? I'm a total sucker for dimples. I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a little clue."

_I'd rather you give me the answer straight up, _Emmett thought, _but if this is all I'm going to get … _After a few moments of anxiously chewing his lower lip, a bad habit he'd inherited after too much time spent in the company of humans, he nodded, staring up at the sphinx from beneath his lashes.

Akharet crouched lower to the ground, leaning in like an excited teenager about to whisper something scandalous into a friend's ear. "You are trapped in the same second," she said slowly, "never moving forwards. Time, therefore, is your problem. It is also the remedy. The thing you are seeking lives inside a bell jar, hidden deep within the belly of London."

"London?"

Akharet nodded.

I exchanged a nonplussed glance with Jasper. Emmett, meanwhile, looked reasonably appeased. At least now we had a starting point.

Suddenly, the memory of a dream crashed through my mind: a tiny boy with vampire skin and violet eyes, waving down from a high peak to a golden-haired woman—my sister—who sat ensnared by chains and time on the opposite side of the valley, unable to cross the river to reach him. One day, far in the future, would those chains break? I'd never quite figured out how anyone could possess enough imagination to design a face so lovely and perfect. The possibilities hit me now like a ton of bricks, and I sucked in a quick breath, almost choking from shock.

If Bella's dream was more than just a dream, as they usually were, then … the little girl … with the bronze curly hair … and eyes like chocolate buttons …

!

The idea was like an unconquerable virus. It infected every corner of my mind, instilling a feverish desire that spread lower to my heart, where it quickly began consuming the long dead organ.

I wanted that little girl. I wanted to know her, to listen to her pealing laughter a thousand times over with my own two ears, and commit it to memory. I wanted to spoil her rotten: to have waffles and ice-cream ready for her when she came bounding out of her room each morning, still clothed in her pjs, and to tell her stories about fairies, princesses, and courageous white knights each time I tucked her back in.

It was far too tempting a notion to be believable though. It had to be a coincidence—an enormous, cruel coincidence. I just wasn't that lucky! The dream was exactly that, I realised with a stab of desolation—a dream.

When I finally managed to shake myself from my pointless imaginings, I realised that, unsurprisingly, the sphinx's gaze had fallen on me. There was an overt dare in the arch of her brow. She was still awaiting my question, but I was massively fearful of what I might hear once I opened my mouth.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, I bit the bullet. "Bella Swan—"

"Ah, yes … Bella Swan," Akharet repeated mysteriously. "A fascinating creature."

"Indeed. Quite recently, a seer from Mahouyama made an … interesting prediction."

"Chiyoko," the sphinx nodded.

"Quite," I said through my teeth. Even the name had my blood boiling. "She said that Bella had a destiny of … of great import, one that she must fulfil before either of us can find peace. I was just wondering … what did she mean by that exactly?"

Due to the seriousness of my question, I refused to buckle under the intense gaze of the titanic Egyptian, even when it seemed to burn along my skin like fire.

"This one will require a bit of context to answer. It's going to be rather like ripping of a band aid, I think," she frowned.

"Just give it to me straight."

"As you wish."

On either side of me, my brothers tensed. My body too, went into lock down, preparing itself for the worst.

"Quite simply … Isabella Swan shall be the most powerful and lethal vampire in the history of the universe."

…

"I beg your pardon?"

"I won't repeat myself," Akharet declared, in a bored kind of droll. Her sudden lack of sympathy had my hands bunching tightly against my sides. Was she bipolar, or something?

"Is this some kind of a joke?" Emmett snorted, crossing his arms. "I mean, sure, we all know that Bella as a vampire will equate to something awesome, but, really, I think 'most powerful vampire in the history of the universe is a bit of an exaggeration."

I was inclined to agree with my brother. The alternative was far too difficult to accept—that my soft, charming fiancée was fated to become a blood thirsty vessel for that much power. Perhaps I'd been expecting the sphinx to retract the prediction—to have her break down in hysterics and confirm it had all been her strange version of a bad joke. When that failed to transpire, naturally, I wavered.

Emmett shook his head over and over in disbelief. "No. Just … no. It can't be. This is Bella we're talking about. You've got it wrong."

"I HAVE NOT GOT IT WRONG!" Akharet roared suddenly. The chamber trembled and shook, as if caught in the grip of an earthquake, cowering at the fire in her voice. Her eyes blazed like flaming topaz jewels, and her large white canines flashed as her lips curled back. Evidently, sphinxes were a proud, egotistical race. To wound their pride was perilous.

"Every spirit would tell you precisely the same thing, if only you possessed the capacity to hear them! The extent of Bella's magical arsenal will be unprecedented, very nearly limitless," she growled. "With her powers strengthened a thousand times over, vampire skin will prove a useless defence."

"How do you mean?" Jasper fired.

"Vampire magic works largely in the mind. Whilst Bella will still be able to use her wand in the normal way, as one of you, her powers will evolve as you would expect. Imagine her in a fight against Jane of the Volturi."

An involuntary shudder shot down my spine. I already knew Jane's power couldn't penetrate Bella's Occlumency, but that didn't mean I wanted to think about a match between the two. Far from it!

"Whilst Jane's ability would prove useless against Bella," Akharet explained, echoing my thoughts, "the reverse would be quite the opposite. The Cruciatus Curse against vampire skin is completely ineffective; if projected into the mind, however …"

"Then Jane would finally get a taste of her own medicine," Emmett finished, a wicked smirk playing at his mouth.

That notion alone was lovely. The seed grew into a wonderland in less than a second. After witnessing her try furiously, on two separate occasions, to torture the love of my existence, the idea of Jane's power being reflected back at her was the equivalent of lying on a bed of cotton-candy clouds, beneath a sky constructed entirely of rainbows, in the centre of which shone a smiley-faced sun, who had donned a pair of designer shades to protect himself against his own brilliance.

"Precisely," the sphinx grinned. "In addition, she will carry her animagus abilities into her immortal life. She will be faster and stronger than anything you have ever witnessed before."

I didn't see Emmett huff, because my eyes were already riveted to Akharet, but I heard the sigh of frustration. "How fast are we talking here?" he grunted.

"Fast. The speed ratio between undead lion to undead humanoid will be similar to the mortal one. Think 'new land-speed record.'"

"WHAT!" my brothers and I shouted in unison.

"But the current record is seven hundred and sixty three miles per hour!" Emmett protested.

The sphinx chuckled. "Like I said: fast."

Emmett shook his head furiously. "The average maximum speed for a vampire is around one-fifty. That's a one to five ratio! A human's to a lion's is only one to three! I thought you said they'd be similar!"

Akaret released a sumptuous giggle, her tail swishing from side to side. "Alright, maybe not."

"How fast?" I asked flatly, afraid of the answer. If I didn't develop an inferiority complex by the end of the night, it would be a miracle.

"Seven-fifty," Emmett guessed uncertainly.

"Eight hundred," Jasper followed.

Akharet's eyes shifted back to me, her full lips turning up in amusement. As Bella's mate, I felt obligated to bet higher than my brothers, both of whom were regarding me with knowing expression. I couldn't see myself winning. Eight fifty was just too fast for any creature.

When I gave my reply, the sphinx chuckled. "You should have more faith, Edward. The actual figure is a little over nine hundred, I believe."

My mouth fell open with an audible pop, whilst my eyes bulged from their sockets.

_No way! _thought Emmett. _No freakin' way! I _**will not** _believe it! I refuse!_

"There's more," Akharet revealed, "but I don't want to completely ruin the surprise. Now, to answer your question, there are those who will seek to destroy Bella out of fear, not to mention jealousy."

The words were like a match tossed into a tanker of gasoline. Beneath the wintry exterior, a legion of savage flames were licking at my insides, like a thousand hellish tongues, igniting a rage destined to become an inferno.

"Who?" I hissed.

The sphinx laughed without humour. "Can you think of no one?"

"Yes, but if we're thinking of the same vampires, that would immediately spell death for Bella, which I absolutely refuse to accept." I ignored my brothers as their heads snapped in my direction.

Akharet returned my stare with an expression of the utmost seriousness. "You wished to know of the danger shrouding your mate's future, and here it is: Bella Swan was created to take down the Volturi."

"Not possible!" Jasper argued.

My arms fell limply at my sides. The sphinx's words didn't make sense.

"Isn't it?" she challenged, irritated at our doubt. "All her life, she has been conditioned for the battle I speak of, plunged into adversity time and time again, to prepare her mentally for what she has to do.

"It's the only way for her. The Volturi will not allow her to live once they discover the extent of her power. It is forbidden to make vampires of witches and wizards. Aro made one himself once, but he soon dubbed his creation an abomination, after he realised the man possessed the power to usurp him. Unfortunately for the new vampire, he wasn't an Occlumens like Bella. They made quick work of him after Alec stripped his senses.

"The three leaders negotiated with the wizarding ones, requesting that all magical areas be heavily protected against vampires. The Ministers assured Aro, Caius, and Marcus that disguises were already in place, ones that only magical eyes could see through."

"How is it then that we've been able to access Uluru?" Jasper asked.

"The spells on Uluru specifically drown out sound, since no one would expect a shopping centre to be concealed beneath a giant rock."

"And Diagon Alley?"

"You entered the Leaky Cauldron through the Floo, I believe, rather than through the front door."

"Yes."

"Well, then, there's your answer," Akharet replied, as if it should be obvious.

I slapped my forehead suddenly, frustrated by the unimportant discussion Jasper and the sphinx were currently taking part in. "Forget the spells. What about Bella?" I stomped forwards, motivated by sheer desperation, until I was so close that I had to crane my neck. "How do I stop this?"

The Egyptian's face went slack. It gave nothing away, as she said, "You can't. The universe is bored with Aro, Caius, and Marcus, Edward. It has sought their replacement."

"Replacement? She's just a girl, for crying out loud!"

"And Harry Potter is just a boy, yet he became the Master of Death and the Vanquisher of Lord Voldemort all in the space of a day … You _can't_ stop this," she stressed, staring directly into my eyes. The tone of her voice was almost imploring, as if my acceptance of this fact was somehow paramount. "You mustn't try. I promise it will be to Bella's detriment if you do."

I hissed at her suggestion. "If you're talking about that planetary tug of war bull, I—"

Akharet grunted in disgust. "Please! Chiyoko's prediction might have been accurate, but she wasn't right about everything!"

"Like?" Emmett pressed.

"Her interpretation of Venus' connection with Mars was romanticised. It isn't about love triumphing over war at all. It's about appeasing one to the point where he surrenders his hold. In laymen's terms, if Bella Swan wants to live a life dominated by love, she has to get Mars off her back, and the only way to do that is to hand him the heads of the vampire kings. If she doesn't destroy them, eventually—perhaps not straight away—they'll destroy her. It is _that _simple!"

Despair's tendrils were coiling around my body, applying unbearable pressure, especially around my heart, which, despite its stillness, was protesting adamantly, screaming out that this couldn't be allowed to happen. I shook my head over and over. My chest heaved as I sucked in a series of quick, deep inhalations, desperately trying to combat the mounting negative emotions.

"If I don't turn her, they won't have a reason to kill her," I said, my mind working quickly.

"You're forgetting what they promised in Volterra," Jasper reminded me, his head falling forwards into his palms. Emmett groaned beside him.

My heart sank. He was right. Either way, the Volturi would come for us—for Bella. They would not let her live as a mortal; they would not let her live as an immortal either. My breath continued to come quickly, though it grew shallower as my anxiety peaked. I needed an outlet for the shattering anguish building inside me. If I didn't figure out how to subdue it, it would soon blow me into a thousand pieces.

The sphinx crouched low once more, pressing her chin to the ground in the process, so that her gaze was as close to 'level' with mine as she could manage. For the final time, patronus-like light issued from her irises, disguising their natural honey tone. It was even brighter this time around, and blinded my eyes to everything around me, including the giant sphinx herself, thus replacing one mind-whirling sight with another.

One second, I was standing in the golden-pillared hall; the next, a snow scene was exploding across my vision. I recognised the clearing where the Wolves and my family had fought the newborns.

My ears rang with the sound of battle, but no war cry was louder or more enraged than that of the girl upon whom the Volturi were converging. Her frenzied eyes were as red as rubies, the pupils contracting with hate as she charged alone, towards the oncoming force.

I spun on the spot, searching desperately for her supporting allies, and was met by an image that I could never have prepared myself for in a million years—my family, surrounded by dozens of familiar faces: the wolves, my Denali cousins, the Irish coven, and others too. Then there was one I had seen before, but not through my own eyes … until now. It was a face that did not yet exist, but was so indescribably beautiful that it could never be constructed through simple imagination: the bronze-haired little girl, who sat cradled in my arms.

Her face was stained with two glistening trails of tears as she clutched herself close to me—to my future self—her tiny fingers closing around my shirt. Together, we looked out onto the same scene with expressions of matching terror, through towering bars of fire.

"Daddy," the little girl sobbed. I could barely describe the emotions that one word gave birth to. The sadness in her voice sparked a deep, resonating ache, and I was sure, in that moment, that I fully understood the sufferings of empaths; the word itself filled me with an contrasting, infinite joy. My heart felt as if it had been inflated, and would push me up into the air, like a hot air balloon, where I would remain eternally, weightless.

"Don't look, Renesmee," said my future self.

…

_Renesmee._

He—I, rather—turned her face away from the unfolding battle, so that it was buried against my neck, protecting her innocent chocolate eyes, an exact copy of her mother's.

I was so disarmed by the sight of 'future Edward' and … and his … my daughter—I swallowed hard, unable to breathe—so absorbed in that entirely life altering moment (for I was not the same Edward now that I had been ten seconds before), that I momentarily forgot the horrifying scene playing out behind me.

A high scream of agony, which transformed a tenth of a second later into a horrible ripping sound, had me spinning once more.

Bella was nowhere to be seen, and, yet, the Volturi were still continuing their vampire sprint, their faces a mixture of rage, panic, and utter confusion.

Suddenly, a vampire at the front, one of the lower ranking guard members, quite literally split in two, as if some invisible sword had sliced right through his abdomen. As his legs fell limply to the ground, his muscled upper body went flying through the air, landing a split second later by the head of another Volturi casualty.

Opposite me, at the very edge of the field, were Jane, Alec, and the three leaders, all of whom, excluding Marcus, were looking onto the fray, wearing masks of hate and fury, muddled with disbelief. The once-solemn vampire appeared anything but in that moment.

Marcus' face was animated in a way that I had never seen before. It was murderous, and his frenzied eyes were fixed upon the monster he called 'brother'.

Aro.

Another high shriek pulled my focus away, back to the centre of the field, where Bella had suddenly materialised. The troops thundered towards their target, teeth bared and bloodthirsty. When the nearest was little more than six feet away, Bella pulled up her arm, her snowy fist tightly clenched, and, with the almighty roar of the lioness, she slammed it down … into the snow-covered earth.

The vision cut off a second later, before I had the chance to witness the effect of the sledge-hammer punch. The noise, however, bellowed in my ears long after the golden chamber had reappeared around me. It was the very definition of power. The epitome of magic.

The sound of thunder.

I blinked back to reality. The only testimony to the premonition's truth—the only evidence proving it wasn't a concoction of my over-active imagination—was that my brothers began replaying it in their own heads. They'd seen it too. They'd seen the warrior witch in her charge towards the enemy. They'd seen the Volturi fighters fall, one by one, effortlessly mown like feeble blades of grass. They'd seen the child … My child … My daughter …

My Renesmee.

The sphinx, meanwhile, having fulfilled her side of the bargain, had resumed her majestic pose, and stared on into space, eyes unseeing, her body as hard as stone.

**A/N: Is it weird that I actually came up with this scene a year ago in Egypt? Never imagined it would take me a full year to work up to it. I hope you enjoyed it. So … yeah. Edward finally knows. The downside? He can't tell Bella! Muhahahaha! Until next time, lovelies.**


	26. Obsession

**A/N: Please don't hate me. I know it's been ages since my last update. The only excuse I have is the course. It takes up all my time. If I'm not teaching in college, I'm doing research, planning seminars, or writing up assignments. Luckily, I'm only twenty-two, so it doesn't seem to matter that I'm averaging four hours of sleep a night. Of course, I usually crash the second I get in. Micro-naps are my life now. I also find that trains are good places to sleep. Anyway, thanks for your patience. I have two—yes two—whole chapters for you. Initially, this was supposed to be one. I don't always write in linear patterns. I might start at the beginning, jump to the end if I get bored of one particular scene, and then fill in the middle, which is what happened this time around. That's also why I didn't figure out until a few days ago that I'd have to chop it up.**

** I really hope you enjoy it, and although I can't promise that I'll have something else for you in the next month, I absolutely assure you that I will not abandon this story until it is complete. Enjoy!**

**BPOV**

I was not in a good mood. Last night, I had been restless in bed. After waking up at two in the morning, (a most unholy hour) I found that I could not get back to sleep. Every time I was on the verge, I was suddenly thrust back by the threat of a dark dream into an alert state of consciousness; and so at eight o'clock on Tuesday morning, in the midst of my peers, I spent breakfast with my head in my hands at the Gryffindor table, focusing all my efforts on staying awake.

"Rough night, Bella?" Seamus sniggered, before attacking his bacon sandwich. I grunted my reply without bothering to lift my head. He laughed again, this time joined by several others. For some reason though, one I didn't fathom right away, the jovial sound was wrong in my ears—incomplete. I looked up in confusion, and searched for the source of my unease.

My eyes immediately landed on Emmett, whose bellowing laughter so frequently drowned out any accompanying chortles. Today, he looked far from amused, and sat with his elbows resting on the table, a golden goblet pressed to his mouth, the rim of which he continued to absently skim against his pale lips. He must have been deep in thought, for he rarely passed up on an opportunity to make fun of me. This was highly irregular! His frosty blue eyes were overflowing with a baffling combination of disbelief and some other emotion I couldn't identify. What I could not understand was why they were riveted solely on me. It was completely unnerving, so much so that I uncertainly turned to his brothers. I was beyond suspicious when I realised that both Edward and Jasper were staring at me in precisely the same manner.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Edward's eyes, green like lagoon waters (a result of his breakfast), gave a few rapid blinks. "What?"

"My face," I repeated. "Do I have something on it?"

"No," he replied, eyes narrowing with confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that then?"

"Like what?"

"Like you've never seen me before in your life." I folded my arms in exasperation, and pursed my lips.

After adjusting his position on the bench, so that his body was angled towards me, Edward reached for my hand, pulling it into his lap, where he began to trace patterns along my palm. "I just can't get over how incredible you are," he murmured.

I arched an eyebrow, a result of swelling doubt. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for my old-fashioned fiancé to shower me with compliments, but there was something different about the way he did so that morning—something different in the way of his eyes … in the way they seemed to worship me. The reverent sparkle was still there—the one that flickered whenever he looked at me—but today it was brighter, entirely more radiant and confusing, and I had absolutely no idea why.

"It's true," he murmured, voice softer than ever. "You're amazing, and I love you." I blushed at his words, conscious of the people surrounding us. They were evidently conscious of us too, for just as Edward was about to lean in and place a chaste, gentle kiss on my cheek, he was swiftly interrupted by a theatrical gagging noise. My eyes flicked over his shoulder to where Amicus and Viola were chuckling unashamedly. Edward crossed his arms and turned to face the pair, but the smirk he wore revealed the fact that his amusement outweighed the undercurrent of irritation.

The young Gryffindor Beater pointed to his plate, which was loaded with a very generous portion of scrambled eggs, sausages, hash browns, bacon rashers, beans and toast; it was no wonder that he'd gained three inches since Christmas. "Could we turn the mushy stuff down a notch? A fella's got to eat."

Rosalie reached across the table to muss his hair. He scrunched his nose, playfully pretending to dislike her girly attentions. Edward, meanwhile, resumed his staring, and rather than question the scrutiny again, I collapsed back onto the table, hiding my face from him and his watchful brothers.

As the week drew on, I became increasingly suspicious of the vampire men. They slunk away at any opportunity, and more than once I happened across them on my journey throughout the castle. Each time, they were huddled together in some quiet corner, speaking in rushed whispers. It was starting to wear on my nerves. Whenever I questioned them about it, I always received the same 'Nothing's going on, Bella' or 'You're imagining things.' Alice and Rosalie, too, noticed the odd behaviour, and even they couldn't piece it together. Alice tried, but she complained that something was interfering with her visions. That was hardly surprising, considering we were at Hogwarts.

Before long, I simply gave up. With the professors cranking up the workload, I didn't have time to indulge my suspicions. Professor Slughorn's class proved to be the most demanding. The next four months were allotted to coursework completion. Each N.E.W.T. student had been given the name of a different potion that he or she would be required to produce. Before the brewing could commence, however, we all had to carry out lengthy research to uncover the essential ingredients and recipes. On top of that, each student had to submit a thirty five inch essay outlining their intended method and how they would procure each ingredient. Every herb had to be grown from scratch, thus linking our Potions assignment with our Herbology coursework. Everything had to be planned out meticulously. If one thing wasn't done accurately and at the correct time, the results could prove disastrous.

It didn't help that each potion was of the most advanced kind of magic. When Slughorn sent the hat around the classroom, Edward (the lucky thing) picked out Felix Felicis. I suspected he'd been watching the visions flash like a strobe light through his sister's head, constantly changing his mind until he finally found the folded piece of paper he wanted more than any other. I, on the other hand, picked out Amortentia.

_"On the upside," I said to the lovely vampire currently leaning in over my shoulder, "you'll be able to tell me if I'm getting it right."_

_ "Why's that?"_

_ "Well, Amortentia smells differently to each person, doesn't it? If the scent doesn't match mine exactly when you smell it, either A: I didn't do it right, or B: there's someone out there who'll smell tastier to you than I do."_

_ He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "Definitely not possible."_

The mind-numbing work load acted as a distraction from more than just the boys' peculiar behaviour; it also pulled my thoughts away from the Death Eaters, or, at least, it did up until we were three weeks into the new term.

When Talto delivered the Daily Prophet on the twenty-second of January, the headline made my stomach clench. It read:

_ATTACK ON MINISTRY'S DOORSTEP!_

The blood drained from my face, leaving my skin cold and clammy. Edward stiffened beside me, alerted by the rapid change in my heartbeat and my sickly complexion.

"Bella?"

"The Death Eaters have staged another attack. They tried to place the Imperius Curse on Tiberius Ogden on his way home from work." The witches and wizards seated nearby fell silent immediately, while the rest of the room continued to bustle with cheerful activity.

"Tiberius Ogden?" Ginny urged. "I know that name. Dad mentions him every now and then. He's been a member of the Wizengamot for years. He resigned when Cornelius Fudge made Umbridge High Inquisitor, but took up his old post following the investigation."

Edward nodded. "He's Cormac McLaggen's uncle."

Hermione made a noise of disgust and rolled her eyes. "What a shame Cormac didn't inherit the same sense of honour. He didn't even come back for the battle."

"Of course he didn't," Rosalie chirped, tossing her golden hair. "That boy wouldn't know a backbone if it hit him in the face. How he expects to make a decent Auror, I have no idea."

"Forget Cormac," Alice intervened. "What about Tiberius Ogden? If he's a member of the Wizengamot, he obviously has some influence."

"More than most members," Ginny said lowly, her countenance darkening with worry. "He's an Elder, which means he commands the respect of his colleagues. He'll have far more sway than most of the younger members. It makes sense that the Death Eaters would try to use him."

The others listened carefully, before turning their attention back to me. I nodded in understanding and lowered my eyes back to the newspaper, where a stricken-looking man with a tuft of wispy, white hair was pictured in plum-coloured robes beside the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"_At quarter to seven last night," _I read aloud,_ "the Death Eaters staged their latest attack. When Tiberius Ogden, an Elder member of the Wizengamot, departed the Ministry of Magic, little did he know that a small troop of You-Know-Who's old supporters were waiting to ambush him right outside his place of work._

"_Mr Ogden's home is located within the city centre, little more than a mile from the Ministry itself. 'I regularly walk to and from work,' he told The Daily Prophet. 'Even old men need their exercise.'_

"_It is believed that the Death Eaters singled out Mr Ogden for his influential and respected role in the magical court of law. Under the Imperius Curse, he would have proved a valuable ally to the enemy, and may even have been able to help curse other important Ministry officials, including the Minister himself, whom he has access to on a daily basis. _

"'_There were three of them hiding in the theatre not far from the visitors' entrance, and they jumped me as I was passing," Mr Ogden said last night. "Luckily, I managed to fire a message via Patronus back to headquarters before they got the chance to snatch my wand. The Aurors arrived in a matter of seconds, which was when they decided to make themselves scarce.'_

"_The wizard's age may also have contributed to the Death Eaters' decision._

"'_The enemy is moving slowly,' stated Brone O'Friel, a particularly temperamental Auror and close friend of the Minister. 'The fact that they specifically selected a vulnerable old man as opposed to someone younger reinforces their lack of confidence. Without their master, the Death Eaters are clearly unsure of themselves, and have revealed their hesitance on a number of occasions. Even so, none of us should become complacent; the enemy is still dangerous.'_

"_Although the enemy's plans were foiled by Mr Ogden's quick thinking, the assault has left him shaken, and he will be taking a short break from his duties after being granted compassionate leave by Kingsley Shacklebolt. Other Ministry workers, meanwhile, continue to look over their shoulders, terrified that they will be next."_

I let the paper slip onto the table and fell silent. The atmosphere swelled with a strange combination of anxiety and relief. I was highly grateful that the Death Eaters' plans had failed, but it didn't allay my fears of what would come next. How far would they go? Would they never give up? The answer rang in my head like a siren.

No, they wouldn't. If they didn't find a way to resume their tyrannical rule, they would face the only alternative: Azkaban.

"Saber," I heard Edward hiss. My head snapped in his direction a second later. Fury was burning in the green of his irises, setting them alight like the leaves of a forest.

Across the table, Rosalie leaned in closer. "He isn't involved, Edward. You said so yourself."

"I said that his scent didn't match the Masquerade attacker. That doesn't mean he isn't involved." He shook his head with feverish determination. "No, he has to be working with the Death Eaters. Who's to say they don't have other members on the inside? And garlic! What human smells of garlic!"

"And lemongrass," Emmett added. "Don't forget that."

"Bah!" Alice exclaimed, her hands flying into the air, before slamming back down onto the table with a bang. "If they had more people working for them, then it wouldn't be taking them as long as it is doing to make progress! Let's face it, Edward, if the Death Eaters had more than the two we already know about, they'd be moving a lot faster with their plans. They're obviously taking caution to a whole new level."

Edward folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. "I'm telling you, Alice, Saber is involved. I don't know how, but he is."

"Well, I haven't seen anything," she countered.

"That's probably because he owns a House Elf."

Hermione's eyes narrowed with distaste.

"We don't know that," Jasper pointed out, siding with his mate. Edward frowned at the empath, annoyed by his betrayal.

Suddenly, Alice let out a series of high chiming giggles, and turned her head in the direction of the massive doors leading into the Great Hall. I followed her stare, and was met by a sight that thwacked all pessimism to the farthest recesses of my mind.

"HARRY!" I squealed, in time with Hermione and Ginny. "RON!"

The three of us launched from our place at the table, sprinting as fast as our human limbs would allow down the length of the room, past dozens of Hogwarts' students. The boys grinned at us from the entrance, their smiles cheesier than cheddar. Their laughter had all heads turning as we crashed against their bodies, which were now as good as new, thanks to the careful attention of the St Mungo's healers.

After ensnaring them both in fierce hugs, I moved back to allow the girls room to welcome their boyfriends. Ginny threw her arms around Harry's neck, clearly intent on squeezing the life out of him. Hermione, on the other hand, pulled Ron's face down and pressed her lips to his in a fierce kiss. Her fingers grabbed at his hair, porcelain weaving through red. He responded with hungry enthusiasm, moaning against her, while his arms pressed her closer to his own body, until they both resembled two tessellating pieces of a jigsaw.

An annoyed cough broke the spell. Professor Martin stood behind them. Although he didn't look entirely surprised, his stance hinted at discomfort: arms folded tightly over a white shirt and navy jacket, his body angled away from the two couples.

"I respect the fact that you are all happy to be reunited," he said curtly, "but, I'm afraid, human lips, or any other body part for that matter—"

My eyes bulged momentarily.

"—do not count as breakfast. I suggest you return to your table." With that, he marched away, leaving a chorus of low, muffled sniggering in his wake. This time, neither Emmett nor Jasper could resist, and sat with their faces pressed into their palms, their bodies shaking as they attempted to conceal their amusement. The bulkier of the two took it a step further and peeped over his hands, sending a cheeky wink at Hermione after catching her eye. Despite my friend's blush, she refused to be distracted by the burly vampire, and returned her focus to Ron.

"If I knew I was going to get this kind of treatment," he chuckled on our way back to the others, "I would've almost gotten myself killed a long time ago." The comment earned him a jab to the ribs, courtesy of his girlfriend.

"Don't do that to me again!" she commanded fiercely, her face crumpling with pain. "We really thought that …"

Ron pulled her to a stop, and angled her body so that he could look her directly in the eyes. "We're alright."

"I know, but—"

"No buts. We're alright."

She nodded quickly, before jumping back into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, earning another cough of irritation from Martin, who could only be heard because so many people were staring quietly on at the spectacle, distracted from their own conversations. Beside him, Professor Fulplume rolled her eyes, and stabbed a piece of sliced watermelon with her fork.

"Oh, sod off," Ron muttered under his breath, poking his tongue out at the Defence teacher when he wasn't looking. I pursed my lips to contain the giggles threatening to break free, continuing to stare at Fulplume and Martin. The transfiguration teacher was angled away from the defence professor, hunched awkwardly over her breakfast. Martin seemed completely unaware.

Edward chuckled and shook his head. I turned at the sound, and sent him a questioning glance.

"Professor Martin is an oblivious man. He's not brilliant at social interaction."

"I'd guessed that much. So?"

"So when Professor Fulplume asked him why he showed no interest in human to animal transformations, he replied 'Humanoids are at the top of the evolutionary ladder. Why would anyone aspire to move down it?'"

I chuckled at Edward's perfect imitation. He shook his head, staring on at Martin with a mixture of despair and amusement. "The crazy thing is that he still has absolutely no idea why Professor Fulplume stormed away from him. She's been off with him ever since, but he's convinced himself that her mood is the result of something completely separate."

"Men," Rosalie blurted. Her eyes fell on her husband, clearly expecting some kind of reaction. Her brow furrowed with irritation when she realised he was paying her no attention. Once again, his eyes were on me, as they had been for the past week, and just like that, my suspicion was rekindled. The scrutiny of the three male vampires was seriously starting to freak me out. I was doubly grateful, therefore, for the distraction provided by Harry's and Ron's arrival.

Everyone was eager to greet the pair. Together, my Gryffindor friends and I brought them up to date on everything that had happened during their absence.

"We're going to have to give Slytherin a good thrashing," Seamus insisted. "Playing dirty is the only way forward."

"When did we ever play fair when it came to Slytherin?" I interjected, staring incredulously at my Irish peer.

He acknowledged my question with a nod. "Point taken."

Despite our initial cheer, the sunny atmosphere soon darkened. Thick, black clouds seemed to settle overhead as the welcoming soon proceeded on to more serious matters. What else was new?

"How's Mrs Weasley?" Edward asked, his eyes on Ron and Harry.

"Recovering," Ron answered, the grin dropping from his face. Hermione scooted closer to him, and gave his hand a compassionate squeeze. He sent her a grateful smile in return, but it was tinted with apprehension. "After we came around, she spent a whole week fussing over us, which gave her something to do. To be honest, I'm more worried about Dad."

"He still blames himself?"

"I think so. Mum says he spends pretty much all his time now away from the house. He can't face her."

"That's not technically true," Harry disagreed. "I mean … he was there at the hospital. He came to see us."

Ron scoffed. "Yeah, he came to see us. He looked half mad though!"

"What do you mean?" I probed, feeling my chest tighten. Mrs Weasley had enough to deal with; she didn't need to add 'Mr Weasley's nervous breakdown' to the list.

"I dunno. He was just … different. He looked … panicked, like an animal trapped inside a cage. His eyes were wild."

"He's just worried about you," said Hermione, but Ron shook his head in disagreement.

"No, it's more than that. I'm sure it is. I think he's losing it. Once, he grabbed my arm for no reason. I thought he was going to stop the blood flow, he was squeezing it that hard. He kept saying he was sorry over and over, and that he'd tried to stop it, but he couldn't."

"No one could've stopped the rock-collapse unless they'd known it was going to happen beforehand," said Ginny, looking depressed. "It all happened too fast."

Hermione nodded in agreement. I exchanged nervous glances with Edward, who looked just as unsettled as I felt. There was something very wrong with this picture—something about the accident was gnawing away at me, but I couldn't locate the source—I could put my finger on the thing that was really bugging me. The feeling stayed with me throughout breakfast, and it wasn't until I was on my way to my first lesson of the day that I managed to put it out of my mind.

Edward and I parted ways on the Grand Staircase. He continued the climb to Trelawney's comedy class, while I made my way to Charms with Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Seamus and Dean. Much to our extreme annoyance, Harry's and Ron's latest near death experience had given an unnecessary boost to their celebrity status. They were both already massive in the wizarding world, owing to their efforts against Voldemort. The last thing they needed was more attention, but that's precisely what they received. The corridors were congested with swarms of witches and wizards, all determined to say hello to the late arrivals.

"Don't they all have classes to go to?" I grumbled, pushing past Romilda Vane, who huffed in indignation as she was shoved to one side. I thought she would've got the message from that, but when I checked back over my shoulder, she was only a foot behind Harry, her claws curling around a small patch of his cloak as she followed with the rest of the lovesick harpies. Hermione seemed to share my irritation, and wound her arms more tightly around Ron's waist.

"Just think happy thoughts," she said through gritted teeth.

"I've got one!" Seamus shouted over the clamour. "Drinking Butter-Beer from the cup after we win the match against Slytherin!"

The suggestion earned a loud cheer from the group and surrounding Gryffindors. The door to the Charms classroom suddenly came into view as we turned the next corner. That image, when combined with the one planted firmly in my mind by Seamus, had me sighing with relief.

"What about the Cullens?" asked Harry. "They can't drink Butter-Beer."

We battled our way forwards through the crowd, like machete-wielding explorers cutting their way through obstructing flora. The comparison inspired a tasty notion. Cackling lowly, I lowered my shield, calling out to Edward. I knew he'd seen the image I'd wished to share with him, because I felt him lingering at the edge of my mind when I closed it a second later.

_No, _he replied. I chuckled again, suspecting that if he were here to speak to me, he would actually be smirking at the idea of his eccentric fiancée threatening the masses with a machete.

_Bad girl? _I flirted shamelessly, warmth spreading through my body.

_Yes._

_Do you disapprove?_

_No._

I laughed again, before dragging my attention back to my current environment.

Ron's concentration was visible in the purse of his lips as he continued to ponder Harry's question. I could almost discern the flash of a light-bulb above his head when an idea suddenly struck him. "Those cocktail kits they sell in Honeydukes! We could buy a few of those. Every player could add a drop of blood. We'll call it 'Winners' Blood!'"

"Or 'Scarlet Victory!'" offered Dean.

Hermione looked sceptical. "It sounds messy. What if they don't like it?"

"Oh, they'll like it," I assured her, before swatting a young Ravenclaw on the head with my rolled-up newspaper, after she tried to reach past me to grab at Harry's robes.

"How do you know?"

"I already bought one for Edward. I figured it was only fair, considering how much it hurts him to be around me, or, at least, how much it _used to._"

"Oh, of course—you're his singer. Your blood must be the tastiest and nicest smelling thing in the world to him."

A series of cries and a loud thud had me spinning on the spot. I looked down to find a pile of girls at my feet, one collapsed on top of the other.

"Nice going, Romilda!" shouted a blond-haired witch with an athletic build. At the bottom of the heap lay the girl in question. She was gawking up at me, her dark eyes distant and sparkling. The others and I decided to use the opportunity to make our getaway.

With the flock of fan girls sprawled out on the floor, we dashed the last few metres down the stone corridor, before anyone could ask the boys for autographs. Hermione slammed the large wooden door shut the moment she was through it, cutting off our view of the numerous snooping faces staring in at us from outside.

"Now I know what it feels like to live in a zoo," Ron grumbled. His tone didn't match the satisfied set of his mouth though, and I got the distinct impression that he really did enjoy all the attention he was getting.

Just as Seamus was about to reply, he was cut off by a loud burst of music issuing from the front of the classroom, where a band of instruments were playing to themselves. Professor Flitwick was guiding the music like an orchestral conductor, waving his wand in complicated patterns from his podium. After a few minutes, he drew the song to a close and turned to face the rest of the class.

"I hope you all enjoyed that, because you'll each have to perform something similar for your N.E.W.T. exam."

…

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

**EPOV**

My concentration was ebbing. I couldn't think past the dazzling images swirling through my mind. Whenever I tried, they'd crash thunderously back to the foreground, demanding my attention. Focusing on Trelawney's nonsense lectures was hard enough at the best of times, but it had proved even more difficult since the meeting with the sphinx.

I was sick with longing. Renesmee was the only thing I could think about. She was the only thing my brothers could think about, aside, of course, from the incredible and powerful creature her mother was destined to become.

Her mother.

Whenever I looked at Bella now, I could never help but imagine the kind of mother she would be to our daughter: loving (obviously), devoted (as I would be), fiercely protective (just as she was with anybody she considered family). Protective … yes, we would be just that. I'd kill anyone who even looked at my Renesmee the wrong way, and boys … don't even get me started on those!

In the middle of the divination class, my mind suddenly flitted back to an earlier conversation I'd had with my brothers.

_"She's gonna be a looker, Edward," Emmett murmured, his eyes on the distant horizon. We were sat outside at the top of the astronomy tower, our legs dangling over the edge of the parapet, upon which we were perched._

_ "Of course she will be. Half of her genes will come from Bella."_

_ "Those eyes," Jasper purred. "So lovely."_

_ "Of course they are. They're Bella's."_

_ "She had your hair though," he said, nudging me in the ribs. "And your face."_

_ "Hair yes, but I think overall she looked more like Bella."_

_ Emmett shook his head and grinned at me. "Nah, man. She definitely has your face."_

_ I smiled back at him. For some reason, their opinions pleased me. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I'd never believed before that there was even the slightest chance I would one day be a father, and so it was beyond wonderful knowing that, at some point in the future, there'd be a small, beautiful girl who would inherit _my _physical traits._

_ A long happy sigh escaped my lips, and my eyes fluttered shut. Images flashed behind my eyelids, searing their imprint onto my retinas. I saw myself wandering through the forest behind the house in Forks. Walking on either side of me were two dazzling beauties. One had long, straight hair the colour of mahogany, while the other possessed a mass of bronze ringlets that fell past her waist. Bella and a grown-up Renesmee laughed as I casually slung my arms over their shoulders, and I grinned like an idiot, glorying in the euphoria that came with being a husband and father._

_It wasn't long before Emmett ruined the moment. He slapped me hard on the shoulder and said, "You know what this means, bro? You're gonna get your end in, and Bella's going to live through it. You sly dog!"_

_ The subsequent punch I aimed at his jaw sent him flying backwards, off the edge of the parapet where he rolled onto the stone floor. This routine was quickly becoming a normal occurrence in our day to day activities. Jasper chuckled at the sight, and even I had a hard time keeping a straight face, despite my irritation. Discovering that there would definitely be life after the honeymoon certainly eased some of my fears, and I found myself wishing, more than ever, for time to speed up, so that I'd finally get the chance to be with Bella in the way that we both wanted._

_ A few seconds later, Emmett was sitting back by my side and we were continuing the discussion concerning my future daughter._

_ "What about the boys?" Emmett cackled. "I wouldn't know, but I bet it's hell being father to a girl with looks like Renesmee's, especially when you also happen to be a mind-reader."_

_ At my brother's relevant comment, I groaned into the velvety night, allowing my head to fall into my palms. It suddenly felt as if it had been pumped full of lead. Emmett and Jasper, on the other hand, were hooting hysterically, evidently enjoying my growing sense of dread._

_ "Metal underwear!" I exclaimed, earning another round of howls from my brothers. "I'll drain anyone that tries to get through them, you mark my words! You two can help me. There's bound to be hundreds. One man can only eat so much!" I threw my arms into the air as a new idea struck me. "In fact, strike that! A habit!"_

_ "Hey, hey, hey," Emmett said warningly, "some guys go for that kind of thing, you know."_

_ "I know! I still have a hard time wiping my mind of the image of Rose in one. You two have mentally scarred me for eternity."_

_ "Aw, Emmett," Jasper said disbelievingly, leaning forwards to get a good view of the smirking vampire, "you didn't."_

_ "Don't pretend you haven't too, man. Rose told me about Ali's secret wardrobe."_

_ "I don't want to hear it!" I shouted, plugging my ears._

_ "A nurse's outfit, a genie's—"_

_ "Hey, that was a good one. I got three wishes."_

_ "Please," I begged. "I'd only just forgotten about that. The depravity never ceases!"_

_ "No, it doesn't," Emmett grinned, pinching my cheek. I quickly swatted his hand away. "And you've got it allllll to look forward to."_

_ "Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves?" I said desperately, searching for a way to switch the trajectory of our present conversation. "Shouldn't we be thinking about how we're going to make Renesmee possible?"_

_ The effect of my words was instantaneous, sobering my brothers in the blink of an eye. The smiles dropped from their faces as they turned their vision back on the foreboding forest stretching into the distance. I looked from one to the other and back again, listening to the thoughts as they unfolded in their heads._

_ "What I don't understand," Emmett whispered, a sombre expression forming on his face, "is why we saw Renesmee in the vision, and, yet, there was no sign whatsoever of another child." He let out a heavy sigh, breathing his fears into the night air, before turning to look at me. "No offense, Edward, but if there's a way for us to have children, I'd be putting it into practice at the first opportunity. You know how long Rose has waited for this."_

_ I nodded. "I'd wondered about that too."_

_ For a moment, we fell into silence, each of us preoccupied with our own thoughts. An unexpected theory suddenly occurred to Jasper, however, and immediately had my eyes snapping in his direction._

_ "It's not possible," I stated firmly with a shake of my head. "We're too different."_

_ "Are we?"_

_ "Of course we are. It'd be like trying to mate a goldfish with a shark."_

Edward? _Emmett probed._ What did I miss?

_"Jasper is wondering whether it would be possible for a vampire and a human female to make a baby the normal way."_

_ Emmett's brow momentarily creased in thought, his pursed lips signalling the lightning-quick turning of cogs within his mind. "It makes sense."_

_ "What? No, it doesn't. It makes no sense at all. It's not possible."_

_ "How do you know? It's not like Carlisle has ever done any tests."_

_ "That's because—"_

_ "And there _are _legends of an incubus vampire."_

_ "Yes, but—"_

_ "The only way we're ever going to know," Jasper interrupted, "is if we do some research."_

_ "Which will amount to nothing," I answered adamantly, folding my arms. "What vampire could ever have sex with a human and leave them alive?"_

_ "Edward, you are living proof that that is possible."_

_ "Not yet."_

_ "But you will be, and you know it."_

_ Once more, we sank into silence, distracted by our own reflections. The night was silver and purple to my eyes, every edge and surface illuminated by the soft light of the moon. Beyond the castle grounds, the trees of the Forbidden Forest caressed the winter air. Some were still dressed in their evergreen foliage, but others had shed their leaves, and stood like twisted, ungloved hands, reaching up towards the sky. Mist crept out at the edges, settling over the ground like a silver-blue blanket, slowly freezing the winter earth. Gentle hooting could be heard as it echoed from the owlery, along with the soft fluttering of wings._

I wish I was in Edward's shoes, _Emmett thought wistfully. _He doesn't realise how lucky he is.

_"You're wrong. I know better than anyone." It was the truth. I'd gone from a dull, lonely purgatory to an endless heaven since Bella had stumbled into my life._

_ Emmett hunched forwards, his head falling into his palms._ _"This isn't going to help Rose. You know she's just going to wish she could take Bella's place."_

_ Of course. What maternal woman wouldn't? Who wouldn't want Renesmee for a daughter? She would be the most beautiful, enchanting child in the history of the world: shimmering alabaster skin stained with rose, and big innocent eyes the colour of milk chocolate, all framed by a mass of thick, bronze curls. No one in their right mind wouldn't be jealous._

_ Right then, I made a snap decision, the kind I knew I should have thought twice about. I took a long, deep breath, and whispered, "I've seen your son."_

_ With the speed of a bullet, Emmett's head shot out of his hands. His mind held all the shock that I'd felt the first time I'd seen Renesmee, as his piercing eyes bore into mine, searching for some sign of a cruel lie. I had to tell him. How could I not? It had crossed my mind earlier that I should keep the knowledge of the boy to myself, just in case this all turned out to be a hopeless wild goose chase. Having said that, Akharet's revelation did testify the truth of Bella's dream. Renesmee would be born one day, of that I was determined. I loved her too much now to allow myself to believe otherwise, and if she was fated to become an integral part of my reality, I saw no reason why the boy couldn't become a part of Emmett's and Rosalie's. He too, after all, was far too lovely to have been constructed purely from simple imagination._

_ "On the day that Gryffindor played Ravenclaw," I began carefully, "I met Bella outside in the Quidditch stadium. She'd been restless in the night. It was early. I helped her get to sleep, only her shield wasn't up when she started to dream. I saw it all play out in her mind._

"_She was standing on one side of a valley with Rosalie, who was … bound in chains, with clocks attached to the links. There was a … a bloody river intersecting the valley. On the opposite side were two children. The girl looked exactly the same as the one we saw in the vision—Renesmee. There was another though—a boy—sitting in the distance."_

_ Emmett inhaled sharply. Jasper felt the hope swelling in his chest as he fed off our brother's emotion._

_ "He had your hair—the colour of ebony—and Rosalie's violet eyes. His skin was like ours, but he had the same rosy cheeks as Renesmee. I suppose he was sitting further away because … because he'll arrive later."_

_ The truth of my revelation surprised even me. There were aspects of the dream that I hadn't fully considered until now, but once I did, the symbolic meaning rang in my head like the clashing of cymbals, impossible to ignore. _

_ Emmett's breath began coming and going in quick, uneven gasps. I could hear the doubt in his thoughts, but it was overshadowed by a desperate longing to fulfil his wife's deepest wishes. On top of that, he desired the same thing that she did, especially after hearing my revelation._

_ "It was just a dream," he said, shaking his head._

_ "A dream prophetic enough to herald Renesmee," I reminded him. "If Bella could foresee our child, what would stop her from foreseeing yours?"_

_ Stillness settled over us again like a thick coverlet. Emmett was busy absorbing my bombshell, constructing the face of his son in his mind, while Jasper was wondering how we would be able to accomplish the things the sphinx had promised._

_ Finally, Emmett broke the quiet. "Will he be beautiful?"_

_ I chuckled lowly under my breath. "Of course."_

The face of the little boy still swam in my brother's head as we sat through our first class that Wednesday morning. My flawless memory once again had come in handy, and not long after our exchange at the top of the astronomy tower, I had provided my brother with a sketch of his future son. Emmett was overjoyed with my depiction, and was now more determined than ever to uncover the meaning of Akharet's riddle.

_Hidden in a bell jar in the belly of London … Hidden in a bell jar in the belly of London … The belly of London …_

The day trudged by rather slowly. After our lesson with Professor Trelawney, my brothers and I headed off to the library, filling our free period with research on Vampire Incubi. Despite our efforts though, we found nothing helpful among the unrestricted shelves, which was why, after classes had ended for the day, the three of us decided to pay a visit to Carlisle and Esme.

"Boys!" our mother cried upon opening her door to us. The smile she wore touched her eyes, and it was less than a second before she pulled us all into a tight, affectionate hug.

"Aw, Mom!" Emmett complained, rolling his eyes as she placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Take it like a man, or I'll give you detention." She hastily ushered us over the threshold, into her luxuriously furnished office, where we were greeted by Carlisle, Professor Slughorn, and a stern looking Professor Martin, all of whom were seated at the mahogany desk across the room. The sight of the humans, naturally, planted a budding seed of curiosity, which grew as the seconds passed.

_ …terrible idea, _thought Martin. _Even if it has potential, it doesn't change the fact that it's wrong—unnatural._

"What's going on?" I wondered aloud, looking over the seated men. My eyes flitted to the thick book laid out before them, the pages of which were browning and tatty around the edges. I felt the furrow appear between my eyes as I examined the words. They were indecipherable, written in a language that was completely foreign to me. Beside the book sat the magnifying glass which Bella had bought my father for Christmas. It gleamed in the lamplight, the gold of its handle accentuated by the yellow glow. After being foiled by the ancient symbols on the pages, I reverted to extracting information another way, and dived back into the mind of Professor Martin, who soon revealed the nature of the text. I inhaled sharply, putting my brothers immediately on edge.

"Carlisle, what are you doing with that?" To say I was disturbed would have been a massive understatement. The tension was palpable. Every nerve in my body prickled electrically. I couldn't move; horror rooted me to the spot. My father sat in equal stillness as he returned my stare, refusing to break the silence. I pointed to the tome. "That's dark magic."

Slughorn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're right, Edward, it is."

"Which is why it isn't worth our time!" Martin huffed, gesturing to the book, his nose wrinkling with disgust.

"But what if it helps, Wyatt? We've exhausted all other possibilities."

"No," Professor Martin disagreed with a shake of his head, "I don't believe that. There must be something else, Horace."

"And by the time we find it, the Longbottoms will be too old for it to benefit them!"

Jasper stepped forward, sensing the tension in the room. After throwing out a wall of calm, he looked questioningly at Carlisle.

"It gives instruction on how to make a powerful restorative potion," our father revealed, stroking the open page, "but like Edward said, it involves a lot of dark magic."

"The same dark magic the Dark Lord used to regenerate!" spat Professor Martin, his fist coming down on the desk. Jasper released another soothing wave, this time aiming it specifically at the angry Defence teacher.

"If that's the case, Carlisle," Emmett spoke up, "you should close that book and put it back where you found it."

"Finally. Someone, other than me, is speaking some sense."

"Oh, hush, Wyatt!" Slughorn chided.

Carlisle stood from his place, picking the book and magnifier from the table, before approaching my brothers and me. "I don't mean to use the precise method given in the book," he murmured. "The purpose of this spell is to give the subject a body."

"Then how is this relevant to Frank and Alice?" I asked, too intrigued now to hold my tongue.

Carlisle shrugged. "The only thing I'm interested in is the restorative aspect. Here, look." He held out the book and the translation tool. Emmett took them from him. Despite his eager curiosity, he treated the dark, ancient tome as if it would crumble to pieces at any minute, cradling it as gently as one would a new-born baby. Together, we read the words through the magnifier. The ancient symbols transformed as the glass travelled over them, revealing the hidden meaning.

"You see," said Carlisle, "the potion itself is just a restorative, and can be tailored to suit one's purpose. It's what you add afterwards which determines the end result."

My eyes searched his. The hope they contained was easily discernible, sparkling like sapphires, thus making it difficult for me to voice my doubts.

"It's an interesting idea," Jasper acknowledged, "but I don't understand how you'd adapt it for the Longbottoms. They don't need new bodies after all."

"No, they don't," said Carlisle. "They need to have their minds restored."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

The eldest vampire ran a hand through his golden hair as he pondered how to phrase his reply. Eventually, after his arms had dropped back to his sides, he said, "You know my theory regarding Frank and Alice."

"You think their memory shut down to protect them from what happened with the Death Eaters," I nodded.

"Right. There's just one problem with that theory."

"Which is?"

"They both still seem to recognise Neville. I was there when he visited them during the holidays, only it didn't occur to me until after I received the scans that that shouldn't have been the case. They shouldn't remember anything or anyone from their past, or so the scans would indicate."

_I'll bite,_ Emmett decided. He was still sceptical, and more than a little uncomfortable. "Alright, why _do _they recognise him?"

Esme joined the conversation then, stepping forwards to place an arm around her husband's waist. "Carlisle thinks the answer lies in their DNA." The eyes of my brothers narrowed with confusion as we waited for our adoptive mother to elaborate. "Frank and Alice's blood runs in Neville. The fact that they recognise him is likely due to the specific fact that magic lives in the blood of witches and wizards, thus creating a powerful link between parent and child."

Like Jasper and Emmett, I gave a careful nod of understanding. What my parents had told us so far seemed reasonable, but I still hadn't grasped how they would use this knowledge to their advantage.

"Neville is the next generation after Frank and Alice," Carlisle breathed carefully. "His DNA is their tie to the future. Understand?"

"Yes," I chorused with my brothers.

"Their past, therefore, lies in their parents' DNA, yes?"

"Yes."

"Now, here's the theory. If we combine the restorative with the DNA of the Longbottoms' past, along with that of their future, I believe that we may be able to anchor them in time, so to speak … Through blood, it may be possible to reconnect them mentally with the past and the future."

Once again, Carlisle's eyes twinkled with hope as he looked to Emmett, Jasper and me for our opinions. I wanted to support him, truly, but what he was suggesting sounded so farfetched that I couldn't bring myself to encourage it.

"It's a long shot."

_But worth a try, Edward._

"And if it doesn't succeed? What about Neville? He's going to be devastated."

"Of course he is!" Professor Martin interceded, rising from his chair. He marched stiffly over to Carlisle, leaving Slughorn sighing to himself at the back of the room. "I'm sorry, Carlisle, but the chances of this working are slim to none. On top of that, Alice Longbottom's parents are dead. How do you expect to get what you need from them when they're six feet under?"

_Nice, _Emmett thought, his mind loaded with sarcasm as he stared on at Wyatt Martin, who stood before our parents in his grey suit, white shirt, red tie, and polished brown shoes, hands placed firmly on his hips in a display of stubborn displeasure.

Carlisle shifted uncomfortably, his expression sheepish as he turned to meet Martin. "I, um … I was considering exhuming the bodies."

In the issuing seconds, even the humans in the room would have been able to distinguish the drop of a pin. Carlisle's admission was met with a deathly silence. The sinister topic had each and every one of us on edge. I was still trying to decide on an appropriate response when Professor Martin next spoke.

"If it had been a matter of willing offerings, you might have been able to sway me. I'm sure Neville and his grandmother will jump at the chance to take part, but when unearthing graves comes into it … when it comes to unconsented sacrifices …" he gave an obstinate shake of his head, meeting my father with a grim expression. "This is dark indeed. I won't have any part in it."

And with that, he quitted the room, never stopping once to look back. Slughorn, meanwhile, did not rise from his chair, and began pensively stroking his chin as he deliberated the likelihood of success.

"Horace?"

"It's crazy. Absolutely bonkers if you ask me, and the chances of it working are slim." The teacher reached for a heavy-based crystal glass half filled with an amber coloured liquid. I sniffed as he gave the fluid a swirl, my nose wrinkling when I recognised the scent of whiskey. He took a sip, swallowed, and flashed a grin as he leaned back in his chair. "Count me in!"

Carlisle chuckled, before turning back to Emmett, Jasper and me. "Well?"

My eyes flitted to my brothers, neither of whom seemed particularly enthusiastic about the idea of participating.

Jasper shook his head. "I don't know. You heard what Professor Martin said. This is dark territory you're heading into."

Carlisle nodded. "And if Alice—our Alice—was still in the same position that the Longbottoms are now, what then, Jasper? Would you do it for her? For someone you loved … would you risk it?"

The question touched a nerve; I could hear that much in Jasper's thoughts. None of us liked to imagine what it had been like for Alice in the asylum, but we couldn't deny the likelihood that she had been in a similar situation to Neville's parents.

Dark magic though … Was that the true nature of love? Could it drag people to such a perilous, sinister place?

"You don't need me to answer that," the empath replied, his voice low and rough. "You know what I'd do if it were Alice."

Carlisle nodded solemnly.

"If there's anyone you should be asking about this though, it's her. The Longbottoms can't decide for themselves, so why don't you ask someone who's been in their shoes?"

"He's right," Esme murmured, her fingers moving gently over her husband's abdomen, easing away some of his tension. "Besides, she might be able to tell us whether or not we're on the right track."

A minute later, Jasper, Emmett and I were exiting our parents' office. Carlisle had written us a note that would allow the three of us access to the restricted section of the library. He didn't question our thirst for knowledge of our species; instead, he took it as a natural impulse.

Alice met us on our way along the fifth floor corridor, having foreseen that her husband would request she visit Carlisle and Esme in their study. Rosalie was with her. Together, they went to convey their opinions to our parents.

I watched the scene unfold as I made my way to the library with my brothers. Alice told our father that she supported his plan. _"They call vampirism the dark gift, but I've never once regretted what I am. I must have been more undead as a human than I am now. I don't think it matters whether the magic you use for this is light or dark, as long as it hurts no one and you act with pure intentions."_

Was my sister right? Maybe. Either way, I had more important things to consider that evening.

I spent all night in the restricted section with Jasper and Emmett, but there were three full bookcases to explore, all stacked with chunky, dust-covered manuscripts concerned with vampirism. We found nothing that night, or the next, yet we took every opportunity to search the texts available to us. When Bella was away at Quidditch practice, I was in the library; when she was in class during my free periods, I was in the library. Luckily, she was so overwhelmed with work for her N.E.W.T.s, she didn't have time to question me about my sudden fascination with vampire related material. Unfortunately, I too had an intense workload, which meant that I was regularly forced from one section of the library to another, albeit reluctantly.

It wasn't until the Valentine's Day weekend—the day we were due to visit Hogsmeade—that my brothers and I found anything of consequence. We'd been in the library all night, yet again, and it was five to six in the morning. The sky was a deep blue, the sun still lingering somewhere below the horizon far out in the east.

My ears discerned a strange buzzing. It was thoroughly annoying, and I had no idea where it was coming from. It was too loud to be that of a common housefly. I felt my brow crease in puzzlement, before I put it out of my head altogether.

"Edward, Jaz," called Emmett. The two of us immediately stopped what we were doing, our heads snapping in our brother's direction. Jasper jumped up from his chair and went to stand behind him, but I kept my position.

Emmett's book was open on a page entitled 'The Western Incubus.' By the looks of it, the text was fairly modern, by Hogwarts' standards anyway, and could only have been a few decades old, as opposed to a few centuries. The green leather binding was clean and undamaged, and the pages were still crisp and white.

Emmett pointed to the opening paragraph, and said excitedly, "Here. I think this might be it."

"What does it say?" Jasper urged.

I listened as Emmett read the words aloud. According to the book, there was rumour of a new kind of vampire lurking in South America—one that could impregnate women with his 'immortal spawn.'

"'_The only evidence indicating that such vampires exist lies in the words of Brazilian folk tales. There may be no substance in the Incubus story whatsoever; it may simply provide a means for superstitious Muggles to explain the mysterious disappearances of young females from the local villages. According to legend, however, the Incubus vampire seduces women with the intention of impregnating them. Although it is not possible for female vampires to conceive, the story suggests that a male vampire and human female could together produce a hybrid child, one possessing the strength and speed of the father, along with the mother's ability to change and grow into adulthood._

"_Little is known about the nature of vampire offspring, but the tribes-people of Brazil believe them to be evil creatures, possessing a diet closer to that of their fath—"_

An involuntary hiss burst up my throat, bringing my brother to a sudden stop.

He gazed at me uncertainly. "Edward?"

The desk splintered under my grip, the wooden grain transforming into sawdust. "She isn't evil," I promised. The two of them shook their heads. Jasper made use of his powers, attempting to pacify me with another wave of tranquillity, which, admittedly, helped quite a bit. "She's not."

"We know that," he insisted calmly. "Of course we do. We saw her crying when Bella went to fight, remember?"

Emmett nodded. "She's a little girl. Not a monster."

My chest trembled as I exhaled. I wanted to take the book and rip it to shreds for the mere suggestion that _my _Renesmee would be anything but the wonderful, loving child I'd observed. Finally, my anger dwindled into something less aggressive, until it could be described as little more than mild irritation. With my composure regained, I nodded for Emmett to continue.

The passage gave little more away. The only additional thing we learnt was that such children inherited immortality upon reaching adulthood.

"Do you think it's really possible?"

Jasper grinned mischievously. "Only one way to find out."

I wished he hadn't said that. All it did was provide fuel for the shameless degenerate sniggering opposite me. Emmett's eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Bella's shown you her magic wand. 'Bout time you returned the favour, don't you think?"

The pair shook against the table, heads thrown back as the library rang with the sound of their bellowing delight.

I rose slowly from my chair, more irritated than angry. Their tasteless comments weren't enough to push me over the edge—I was too happy for that. "I am renaming the pair of you," I told them calmly. "Let it be known by all—here dwelleth my heinous brothers, the Benchmarks of Evil."

I marched determinedly away, leaving behind the hoots and cackling of said monsters, and rolled my eyes when they started talking bets.

"I'll bet anything that Bella knocked up on the first night of the honeymoon," said Jasper. I sighed as I turned the corner. I expected it of Emmett, but it still never ceased to amaze me how our empathic brother could act like such a scoundrel when he was so well-behaved in the company of women.

Emmett guffawed. "Alright, I bet that he doesn't hold out that long. The terms?"

_Oh, this should be good! _Jasper and Emmett were hilarious when they were feeling competitive.

Jasper patted his chin with his index finger, throwing ideas around in his head. Finally, inspiration hit. I snorted loudly, the sound echoing down the corridor. My brothers heard it, and Emmett was immediately suspicious.

"Dude?"

"I've got it," Jaz cackled. "The loser has to give a full performance in drag—and I'm talking heels, leotard, wig, the whole shebang—to Beyoncé's _Single Ladies_, in a gay bar, on the night of Pride."

For a moment, Emmett looked hesitant, but was soon spurred on by the sight of the empath's mocking expression. He threw back his head, guffawed, and sang, "You're going down, bro."

Poor Bella … she was in for an irritating year.

On my way back to the common room, I sensed my sisters. Alice and Rosalie were running at full pelt in the direction of Gryffindor tower, both of their minds filled with alarm. My legs instantly pumped into a sprint, sending me flying up the Grand Staircase like a maniac riding a rocket.

"What the hell, Alice?" I hissed, stopping at the foot of the girls' stairway. She and Rosalie still hadn't arrived, but I knew she heard me.

_I don't know, Edward! She just disappeared completely. The entire dorm has!_

Panic surged inside me, and although I didn't require air to live, my chest rose and fell at an accelerated pace. I desperately wanted to fly up the stairs, but if this turned out to be a false alarm, I would end up alerting the students for nothing.

Gryffindor tower was a tranquil place at dawn. Soft light filtered in through the window, not quite strong enough to fully banish the shadows. The portrait figures continued to snore in their frames, making the most of their time alone in the common-room.

Quietly, I listened for the sound of Bella's breathing, picking it out almost instantly from among the soft snores of the other sleepers. She was slumbering peacefully. As far as I could tell, nothing untoward was happening in the girls' dormitory. Even when I checked the spy-band, I found nothing threatening. She smiled in her sleep, her long glossy hair fanned out across her pillow.

I heard no footsteps either, no indication of any foreign mind, just the serene inhalations of the Gryffindor students … and that maddening infernal buzzing! What was it! Where was it coming from? I frowned as it moved higher, seeming to drift to the upper dormitories.

A flash of gold and inky black shot by me as my sisters whizzed up the stairs, my hair and garments ruffling at their speed. Despite their concern, Alice and Rosalie were careful to make as little noise as possible as they entered the room where Bella slept. I jumped into the mind of my psychic sister, watching as she tiptoed over to the four-poster where the enchanting witch was resting, her limbs tangled with the sheets.

_I don't understand, _Alice thought as a new vision danced behind her eyes. She saw Bella and me together. We were seated at a small table, our hands interlaced as we stared into one another's eyes. A golden cherub floating overhead showered us with pink confetti. The vision was clearly short-term, for the location was Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, which we would apparently be visiting later today during the Hogsmeade visit.

Rosalie arched an eyebrow, smirking as she turned to face our sister. "Sorry, Alice, but I think you're losing your touch."

"I am not!" the psychic whispered back, her voice too low to disturb the humans. A look of indignation settled on her face. I held back a chuckle, not wanting to offend her further. "Something is messing with my vision!"

"You've been saying that for weeks."

"That's because we're at Hogwarts! There's always going to be something getting in the way here. It's like I'm permanently receiving faulty reception." Alice sighed and shook her head, before inhaling a deep calming breath through her nose. Her eyes snapped open abruptly at the trace of a peculiar scent. "What's that?"

Rosalie sniffed too, her brow furrowing with confusion.

"It's familiar."

"Mm, I've definitely encountered it before." Together, they crept closer to Bella, both continuing to study the scent, until they were hovering directly over her. Without saying a word, Alice sunk to her knees, her nose still working furiously.

_Odd … the scent is strongest around her throat._

My body tensed immediately.

As lightly as was inhumanly possibly, so as not to wake the dreaming girl, my dark-haired sister pulled at the neckline of Bella's winter pyjamas, revealing a sliver of her ivory skin, along with a silver chain, upon which there usually hung a small sparkling diamond.

Rosalie stiffened, eyes widening as the realisation dawned on her. Her hands flew to her left wrist, where she anxiously tugged back her sleeve. She sighed when she saw that her glittering bracelet was still intact. The piece was encrusted with the dozens of tiny Abatwa diamonds she and Emmett had collected at the Quiddtich World Cup.

Suddenly, the buzzing made sense.

The girls scanned the room for further evidence. Sure enough, the stones from Lavender's earrings were missing.

All this trouble over a fairy? I chuckled lowly as my sisters re-entered the common-room. "I guess they've come to reclaim."

Alice nodded, fingering her own bracelet thoughtfully. "I wonder if we'll see him or her. We should probably give these back."

Rosalie snorted and crossed her arms. Trust her to be stubborn.

"They're not ours to keep, Rose."

"I know that, but look at this thing!" she flashed her bracelet for Alice and me to see. "No one at that match caught as many diamonds as we did. The fairy we give them back to will have a better chance than anybody at winning the Abatwa crown. We have to make sure they're worthy first. If I'm not impressed, I'll be obliged to keep my bracelet."

_How noble of you._ I rolled my eyes, somehow managing to suppress an incredulous laugh. Some things never changed.

All day, I kept a lookout for the visiting African fairy, but I never caught a glimpse of the sneaky monarch-wannabe. I continued to hear the buzzing of wings as the Abatwa travelled through Hogwarts on the back of his or her pet insect. When I put all my concentration into it, I could even make out the tenor of an inhuman mind. It was very difficult to keep track of though, and I was hardly surprised that I hadn't noticed it the first time I'd searched for the intruder. I couldn't hear any actual thoughts, but I was able to make out a sense of mounting greed and ambition. In the end, I had to conclude that this ruthless stranger, whoever he or she might be, would go to any measures to win the fairy crown.

Bella was highly amused when I shared the discovery with her, and delighted in her missing diamond, thus earning disbelieving stare from my sisters, both of whom regarded the witch as if she were crazy.

_Forget diamonds, _Rosalie thought, eyes wide. _Girl's lost her marbles._

"What can I say?" Bella said later as we wandered through Honeydukes. "I'm just not the kind of person to drool over sparkly things." Suddenly, she stopped short, her eyes glazing over as she stood stock-still, before inevitably turning to look at me, a wicked smirk creeping onto her face. "Actually, scratch that."

I laughed loudly, causing a few people nearby to crane their heads in our direction. "I should probably spend more time out in the sun then."

"Definitely."

Since it was Valentine's Day, I purchased some Strawberry-Hearts for Bella. As the name indicated, the treats were heart-shaped strawberries, only they were covered in a variety of coatings, including white, milk and dark chocolate, and yoghurt and honey. A magical charm caused them to mimic the pulsing action of a beating heart. When I placed a hand on Bella's abdomen, I could feel their rhythm play out in her stomach.

In return, she bought me another _D.I.Y Cocktail-Kit._ The sight alone made my mouth water, not in the literal sense, of course, since I was still feeling the pleasant effects of my breakfast. Despite my desire, I insisted that she didn't have to feel obligated to repeat the gesture she'd performed after our previous trip to Hogsmeade. As expected though, she brushed off my concerns with assurances that she 'wanted to'.

"It's not as if it hurts me to do it," she said as we exited the shop. We began walking at a leisurely pace in the direction of Madam Pudifoot's. Bella had been the one to suggest the visit, even though I already knew we'd end up there. Her reasoning, it turned out, was that she'd never been to the tea shop on Valentine's Day, since she'd never had a date to accompany her in her previous years at Hogwarts.

"It has to sting a little," I worried, thinking of the last time she'd used her wand to extract a drop of blood from her finger.

Bella shook her head. "Not that I remember."

I would have argued, but I didn't want to darken the day with quarrels and pessimism, so, instead, I opted to keep my mouth shut. It was February, and frost still lingered in the grasses. The window-panes and door-frames of the Hogsmeade structures sparkled with a thin, white glaze of ice and frozen dewdrops.

Bella's ears were covered by a baby-blue hat made of thick wool; a matching scarf and gloves protected her neck and hands. Her nose had turned an adorable red as it endured the biting cold, and she sighed with relief as we stepped into the warmth of the teashop.

Luckily, a table by the fire became available as Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass rose to leave. Outwardly, Draco exuded an air of irritation: his lips were pressed tight, while his brow pulled down into a frown.

"Bloody cherubs," he muttered, mussing the confetti from his white-blond hair. Astoria—Daphne Greengrass' sister—giggled at the sight of him.

"Cute."

Draco rolled his eyes, but the hint of a smile tugged faintly at the corners of his lips, the only indicator of the emotion undulating beneath the surface.

_… wonder is she's having a good time. I should ask her if she wants to hang out more often. What if she says no though? _Draco bit his lip, the carefully concealed positivity suddenly morphing into a downcast expression. After a few seconds, however, he perked up, remembering that Goyle had confided in him earlier in the week, after overhearing a conversation between Daphne and Astoria, where the latter had admitted to being completely smitten with a certain blond-haired Slytherin.

His expression quickly soured when he noticed my presence. Astoria reacted in a similar fashion, her countenance becoming icy as her eyes landed on me. Neither were particularly thrilled when they remembered I could hear every single one of their private, besotted thoughts. While they both belonged to Slytherin House, that didn't necessarily mean I wanted to make them feel uncomfortable, which was why I kept my gaze fixed firmly on Bella, pretending to be oblivious to all else but her.

Bella ordered a pot of tea and a scone smeared with raspberry jam and clotted cream. I was content simply to watch, for there was still no trace of the burn in my throat. A single tea-light contained within a pink glass holder burned at the centre of the table, providing pleasant soft lighting in the otherwise darkened room. Madam Pudifoot must have decided that shadows and candlelight would better suit the Valentine atmosphere, since it allowed visiting couples a certain degree of intimacy.

Despite the low lighting, Blaise Zabini still managed to recognise Bella from across the room. He was sitting in the far corner with Pansy Parkinson, his eyes fixed on the girl beside me. I gathered from his thoughts that he wasn't overly interested in his date; his only motive for spending time alone with her was that he was too proud to be seen spending the holiday alone, and since Pansy was one of the most popular girls in Slytherin, it had made sense to him to accept her offer. A mask of cold indifference disguised his internal melancholy, which was probably why his date only experienced a mild flare of jealousy when she spotted my fiancée.

"Ew, I thought I sniffed a sceptic tank," she leered, purposely filling her acerbic voice with unnecessary volume.

Bella clucked a sharp laugh. "Cockney rhyming slang? Once again, how very original. After eight years, you'd think she would have tired of the Yank jokes." Her fingers drummed impatiently against the table, an indication of her irritation. "If Pansy had it her way, the entire school would have had me pegged as a tasteless American idiot from day one. I hate that stereotype."

I shrugged. "Do I look like an American idiot?"

Bella tugged off her coat and flung it over the back of her chair. "Be serious," she answered, hurriedly unwinding the scarf from around her neck.

"I am serious," I shot back at her. I had a point, and I was determined to it.

"Well, of course you don't. You're a vampire."

I nodded. I might be lots of things, but I was most definitely not an idiot. "Do you think the other students _think_ I'm an idiot?"

"Where are you going with this?" she asked, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Just answer the question."

Bella sighed and shook her head.

"Do you think they believe that _you're_ an idiot?"

"No."

"Well, then, no matter how many times certain pathetic individuals try and promote a stereotype, the fact remains that most people see it for what it is—a load of rubbish."

"It's still annoying that we're stereotyped at all though." Her hands were welded together on the table-top. They were clasped so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. I didn't enjoy seeing her so tense; it made me uncomfortable, which was why I felt the need to reach across to her and prise her hands apart. She shivered at the contact, but also seemed to relax, especially when I began thumbing the soft skin of her palms.

"Almost everyone hates typecasting, Bella, but you have to remember that it works two ways. If the stereotypes were true, all your British friends would be split into two categories—pale upper class snobs with horse teeth, who hunt foxes for fun and speak the Queen's English, or pasty cockneys with poor dental hygiene, who live on a diet of fish and chips and nothing else."

We both looked around the room then, inspecting the people sitting at the neighbouring tables. The range of accents was incredible: Yorkshire, West Country, Manchunian, Scouser, Geordie, Welsh, Scottish, Black Country, East-Anglian, South-Eastern and so on. The skin tones varied too: porcelain and cream were dominant, owing to the weakness of the sun's rays (the UK rested on lines of latitude even higher than those of Forks). I wondered briefly whether Bella's skin would have been of a darker shade if she'd spent her teen years in Arizona, rather than Scotland. Probably not. Darker skin tones were also present in the teashop; furthermore, almost everyone in the place possessed a set of nice, milky teeth.

"Only idiots believe stereotypes, Bella. We have ours thanks to Jerry Springer, various politicians, and a little thing called MTV; the British have theirs because of Mary Poppins and hundreds of years' worth of inbred aristocracy, the latter of which Pansy Parkinson probably descends from."

I received a swat to my shoulder at that last comment.

"Now _you're_ stereotyping."

My palms shot up in defence. "An eye for an eye, love."

After a few more giggles on the subject, the conversation proceeded into more romantic territory. I barely noticed the showers of confetti that fell from above, because I was too busy admiring the depth of Bella's eyes and each line of her creamy face. When I did, it only served in reminding me of our approaching wedding, which had me grinning maniacally, especially when I remembered the potential product of that future union.

More than once, I contemplated whether or not I should find a way to tell Bella about Renesmee. The spell performed by Akharet, however, was in full effect, meaning that such thoughts were always accompanied by an overwhelming sense of foreboding. I didn't dwell on them for long therefore, and settled simply on loving Bella with every fibre of my being.

Her heart thudded in her chest as I leaned in closer, much to my satisfaction.

"I love you," I whispered, brushing my lips across her cheek. The heat of her skin increased at my touch, radiating like fire against my wintry flesh. I didn't like the table separating us, and so I reached around for her chair. She flinched as I lifted it off the floor, my hand resting beneath the seat to support her weight. Gently, I placed it down beside my own, and interlaced our fingers beneath the table.

Bella leaned forwards, her scent rippling through the air as her breath fanned across my face. I inhaled it deeply, grateful for the absent burn of the venom. Even without the usual predatory desire, the lavender smell was still intoxicating.

After Madam Pudifoot's, Bella and I made our way to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Bella had worn down the nib on her own quill, and so I bought her a new one made from a gold and black striped pheasant feather, along with a selection of different coloured inks to replenish her writing kit.

We joined Carlisle and Esme in The Three Broomsticks for the last hour of the visit. My brothers and sisters were nowhere to be seen. I couldn't locate their thoughts either, and concluded that both couples were using the using the excuse of Valentine's Day to spend some quality time alone.

Neville joined us too, but he was accompanied by Hannah Abbott, and so it was not the most suitable time to discuss Carlisle's plan. When Esme and the girls went to purchase more drinks, however, Carlisle managed to give the wizard a brief summary of his progress.

"How dark are we talking here?" Neville murmured, careful to ensure he wouldn't be overheard.

My father frowned. "Well, some of the ingredients are fairly … exotic, and the potion would require the DNA of you and your family members."

"DNA?"

"Blood, preferably. We're going to tweak the ingredients so that it will benefit your parents, but …" Carlisle trailed off. _How do I tell him?_

Neville waited. When my father failed to continue, his inquisitive eyes turned on me instead. In order to spare Carlisle, I quickly explained to the boy that the restorative we had in mind was the same one Voldemort had used to give himself a body, with a few tweaks of course, as Carlisle had already mentioned. The more I unveiled, the more and more conflicted Neville seemed to become. He listened sullenly until I finished, yet all the while he fidgeted in his seat, his hands playing restlessly around the base of his pewter tankard, which was overflowing with frothy, amber butter-beer.

The girls returned before Neville could voice a response, but I listened to his thoughts as he moodily deliberated the proposal. On the one hand, he was disgusted at the possibility of having to resort to similar methods as the vanquished dark lord; on the other, he wanted his parents. Who could blame him?

He was silent on the way back to the castle, only speaking when prompted. He still hadn't made a decision by the time we passed into the castle grounds. This didn't surprise me, considering the gravity of the matter.

On numerous occasions over the course of the next few days, we asked Alice if she could see anything new regarding the Longbottoms, but every single time, her response was 'I won't be able to see until Neville decides'.

It was Tuesday night when I next approached him. Bella turned in at nine, as soon as we got back from the library. Her N.E.W.T. assignments, when combined with Quidditch practice, were really beginning to take their toll on her. The shadows beneath her eyes were always darker now than those beneath mine, which definitely was not good when the comparison was between a human and a living corpse.

"Hey, Neville, hold on!" I called. The wizard paused and turned.

_Edward?_

I joined him at the foot of the boys' staircase, leaving Rosalie and Emmett behind. Emmett was still sniggering after his evening scheming. He'd spent the last half of the day trying to get Bella hot and bothered. At one point, he'd even produced a tray of oysters, insisting that Bella try a few. "It's a human experience!" he cried in his defence. After assuring Bella that the aphrodisiacs had not been tampered with in any way, she had obliged. Jasper had been sniggering in his chair the whole time, his chuckles gaining volume when Emmett cracked out the dessert: champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. Despite her suspicions, Bella accepted them, which was when Emmett turned his attentions to Rosalie. He stroked along her collarbone, and ran a hand down her thigh in the hopes that Bella was paying attention. I watched her carefully, knowing as I did that I shouldn't find the situation amusing. I don't know why I took so much pleasure in seeing her blush deepen, or in hearing her heartbeat accelerate, but I did.

Alice and Jasper had disappeared soon after. It seemed that the little display had affected my inky-haired sister as much as it had my human, and I caught a glimpse of Alice's plan before she'd pulled her mate from the castle. They'd crept out early to spend the night in the mountains, and wouldn't be back until morning.

"Have you thought about Carlisle's proposition?" I asked Neville, flinging all other thoughts aside.

The wizard raked a hand through his hair and nodded. "Still haven't decided though."

"No one expects you to reach a decision straight away. It's a big thing." I gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as we began our climb up to our dorm. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, and smiled in return.

_What would you do, Edward?_

"If it were my parents? Honestly, I couldn't tell you." Neville's scepticism was clear in the furrow between his eyes; his eyebrows formed a deep 'v' as he frowned. We paused at the door to our room. I relaxed against the frame, while my human friend slumped against the adjacent wall.

_If it were Bella?_

"That's different," I said immediately. "I wouldn't even have to think."

"Even if it meant you'd have to use dark magic?" Neville's eyes were as piercing as spears as he studied my reaction. Of all the students at Hogwarts, he was certainly one of the more sensible, and definitely one of most courageous. The memory of him charging towards the enemy during the Battle of Hogwarts would burn perpetually in my mind like Gubraithian fire.

"Bella is everything. I already know I can't live without her. If I had to topple an empire to keep her safe, I'd do it."

A tiny smile pulled at the wizard's lips. "That sounds pretty dark."

I shrugged. "That's love, right?"

"I guess." _They don't warn you about _that _side of it in the fairy-tales though._

I didn't respond, mainly because Neville hadn't intended for me to hear his thoughts on the dualistic nature of love. Still, I pondered quietly what was beginning to become a recurring theme in my life—pure love versus dark obsession. Where was the dividing line? Did a person's affections for another individual have to fall on one specific side of that line, or did real love encompass both? If I'd had to attach a visual description to my love for Bella, I would have imagined it as being something hot and white, like the atoms burning at the core of a star, or the plasma blasting off its surface, beautiful and brilliant; and, yet, because of that very intensity, it possessed just as much potential to become something violent and destructive.

The irony had me throwing my head back with laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Neville.

I shook my head against the door. "Nothing. Nothing is _funny. _I was just thinking … the more I learn about love and its nature, the more it scares the hell out of me."

An abrupt snort echoed up from the common room. "Wise man," chuckled Emmett.

His words were followed by the unmistakeable sound of Rosalie slapping him upside the head.

With a roll of my eyes, I pushed the door to the dormitory open. A wall of the most deliciously scented air immediately slammed against me, and I almost staggered back with surprise. The mouth-watering smell filled my nose, causing my body to react in the most natural, carnal way. Venom flooded my mouth, desiccating it as only Bella's scent could.

On the table beside my bed sat a small plastic cup. It was one of those opaque types, with a lid and a straw. Bella must have used the D.I.Y. kit she'd bought from Honeydukes at the weekend. The only thing that passed through my mind in the sixth of a second it took me to react was the wondering of why Bella had chosen to make the cocktail without me. Maybe it was because she knew I didn't like to watch her extract the necessary bead of blood. Whatever the reason, I charged.

A loud mind suddenly demanded my attention as I lifted the cup.

_Blood! _thought Emmett, charging from the common room with Rosalie. They'd caught the scent after it had escaped the dormitory, and were now consumed by a mixture of both excitement and fear, overwhelmed by the deliciousness of the heady aroma.

_They want it for themselves. It's mine! _I thought possessively. There was no way I would let them have it. It had been left on _my _bedside table, by _my _bed. It was meant for me! Closing my lips around the straw, I sucked. Warm, bloody liquid surged over my tongue. Confusion overwhelmed me as I swallowed. This didn't taste like Bella. Perhaps she'd bought a faulty batch? A new face grew in my mind as my brother and sister barrelled into the dorm, halting beside a puzzled-looking Neville. I sucked at the straw again, pulling more of the mysterious fluid into my mouth. Whether it tasted like Bella or not, it was still incredibly luscious.

"Edward?" said Rosalie, eyes glued to my cup.

"Mmm," I moaned, continuing to drink as she licked her lips. The words of my siblings were lost on me. I couldn't make sense of anything, other than the electrifying sensation on my tongue. Oh, it was delicious! Delectable! Wonderful! Mouth-wateringly appetising!

_Just like her. _It had never struck me before just how lovely the girl truly was, with long, ebony tresses cascading down her back like a black waterfall, and those eyes! So dark! By god, she was beautiful! I wanted to punch myself for not seeing it before.

Finally, the sound of the straw pulling at air could be heard. The cup dropped from my hand, clattering to the floor.

"Dude," grumbled my brother, "that was so uncool. I can't believe you wouldn't share."

Rosalie tossed her hair, looking exceptionally pissed. "If you think you're getting a good Christmas present next year, you can forget it! What was that anyway? I've never smelt anything like it."

"I have," said Emmett. An image of a woman he had killed one evening erupted in his thoughts. Her blood had called to him as she stood in her garden, hanging out her washing. _But she died! I killed her. So why …_

I collapsed onto my bed with a sigh.

"I don't know why you have to look so satisfied," Rosalie snapped.

_Really? _I wanted to ask. Did she not see it? Was it not plain on my face like a tattoo? "Ah, Rosalie. Rosalie, Rosalie."

"Edward?"

"Is it not obvious?"

"Is what not obvious?"

I chuckled to myself, and rolled onto my side to look at my sister. "Silly … I'm in love!"

Rosalie frowned, her eyes flicking to her troubled husband. "Well, of course you are. You went Romeo on us when you thought she'd died."

In a burst of lightning speed, I launched at my sister, snarling like a maniac. Emmett slammed in to me before I could reach his vicious, lying wife. I swiped at him in an effort to reach Rosalie, but he dodged.

"WHAT THE HELL, EDWARD!"

I pointed furiously at Rosalie. "She's lying. How dare she!"

"How dare I what?" screamed the blond vampire, her glistening teeth bared in anger.

"How dare you tell me that _she _is dead! She's not dead! If you've done anything to her, I swear I'll rip you to pieces!"

"What the—"

"Damn it, Edward!" Emmett roared. "Bella's fine! She's asleep in her dorm. What's gotten into you?"

"Bella?" A rush of calm suddenly washed over me. I felt myself smile, and turned around to walk back to my bed. "Well, that's a relief. Sorry, Rose. I thought you were talking about ma chérie."

"Precisely. Bella."

"What? No! I was talking about Romilda."

The eyes of my brother and sister bulged from their sockets, while their thoughts were propelled into a torrent of confusion.

Rosalie gulped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Romilda," I grinned. "The love of my life. Romilda Vane."

**A/N: Muhahahahahahahahahaha!**


	27. Predator

**A/N: Because random posts keep mysteriously appearing on my profile, which is highly annoying, I have changed my username yet again. I doubt this will help, but I figured it was worth a shot. If you want to add me, search for: angiggle1 …**

**Thanks!**

**BPOV**

When I awoke after a peaceful night's sleep, two blurry figures were looming over me. I rubbed the sand from my eyes, and everything suddenly became a little clearer. I recognised Alice's inky halo, and Rosalie's tumbling golden locks.

"Morning, Bella," Alice said. I frowned. Her voice hadn't rung with its usual note of cheer. In addition, she wore a very uncharacteristic grimace, while Rosalie's expression could only be described as a scowl.

"What's going on?" I demanded softly, instantly alert. The two exchanged wary glances. "Alice."

The vampire sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she clenched her eyes. Concerned, I sat up.

"It's Edward."

At the mere mentioning of his name, my heart fluttered in its cage, but the pleasant anticipation was accompanied by a horrible sense of foreboding. When the elfin vampire refused to continue, I turned my eyes on her sister instead, noticing with increasing anxiety how tightly her hands were clenched.

Rosalie inhaled a long deep breath, which caused her nostrils to flare and her chest to expand. For the longest time, she held it in what I perceived as a clear attempt to maintain her cool control. Finally, she growled, "He drunk a love potion."

One brief moment, and then …

"HE WHAT!" My shriek woke the other girls, causing them to bolt upright in their beds.

"Uh? Wha?" mumbled Laveder. "W-woz happ'ning?"

"Who! I growled, flipping back the sheets.

Rosalie's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Romilda Vane. She left a cup of it by his bed. We didn't realise until after he drank it that, to him at least, it would have smelled just like you. I think he thought you'd made him a—"

"Cocktail," I finished.

"Precisely."

I sprung off the mattress, and quickly began to change out of my pyjamas. Alice flung my uniform at me while she explained why she hadn't been able to stop her brother from consuming the love potion. She and Jasper had been away in the mountains when she'd had the vision; they didn't have enough time to get back and prevent the premonition from becoming reality.

Once I was fully dressed, the girls led me out of the dormitory and down into the common room. Edward was nowhere in sight. Alice explained that he was not willing to spend time in the company of the other Cullens, because he didn't want to hear the things they had to say. That didn't stop them from screaming their thoughts at him, but Edward refused to believe the accusation that Romilda had tricked him.

"Where is he now?" I demanded, hurdling through the portrait hole. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Jasper were waiting for us outside.

"In one of the greenhouses," replied Alice through gritted teeth. "He's trying to find appropriate flowers for a bouquet."

"The only thing I want delivered to that BF-stealing bi—"

"Rosalie!"

"Witch then," the golden haired vampire huffed, following the scolding from her mother, "is a nice big pot of Devil's Snare."

For once, Emmett didn't respond with his usual chuckle. He jaw was clenched so tightly that it could have bitten through steel, while his deep-set eyes were fierce and penetrating, his black pupils frighteningly small, emphasised all the more against the icy shade of his irises.

"Get on, Bella," was all he said. He crouched while I climbed onto his back. Once I had locked my limbs around his neck and waist, he pushed off the ground and rocketed away, and was followed closely by the others. Together, we zoomed down the Grand Staircase. Our flight caused quite a stir amongst the portraits. I heard one or two complaining about our speed. Verleena the Virgin was particularly cross, since the rush of air disturbed her robes, and she had to hold them down, like a seventeenth-century version of Marilyn Monroe. Sir Cadogan, who resided on the opposite side of the staircase, looked momentarily enthralled, before the inevitable disappointment hit.

Alice came to an unexpected stop once we'd reached ground level. I fell to the floor with a thud, after the abrupt halt caused me to break my grip. Jasper considerately helped me to my feet, before turning his attention back to his wife, whose glassy stare indicated a vision.

"Bah!" she cried suddenly, throwing her hands into the air. Carlisle patted her gently on the shoulder.

"What is it, Alice?"

"It had to be the mind-reader, didn't it! He can predict our every move. He knows we're going after him, so he's left the greenhouse."

"And where is he going?"

My heart hammered in my chest as the psychic's head fell into her hands. She looked annoyed beyond belief. "He's scaling the castle walls with the intention of climbing into Romilda's dormitory."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" cried Esme. I started at the sound of her raised voice. It was rare to see her lose her grip on her control. Even when we had faced the threat of the newborn army, the maternal vampire had always maintained a calm exterior, despite the pressing danger that she would lose a member of her family. Now, however, she looked completely piqued: beneath narrowed hazel eyes, her lips were pinched, no longer forming their usual glowing smile; her arms were folded tightly across her chest, while her right foot tapped continuously against the hard floor.

"Esme, this isn't Edward's fault," I reminded her. The vampire's indignant expression softened immediately.

"I know that, Bella. It's not Edward I'm mad with. When this is all over, I'm going to give Romilda Vane a month's worth of detention."

That one small assurance filled me with a joyous, fuzzy warmth. It was like the promise of sunshine at the end of a hurricane.

Unfortunately, Esme and Carlisle didn't escort us back to the common-room. Although both wished to converse with their son, they were far too conscious of the other students, and reasoned that barrelling into Gryffindor tower would only put the humans on edge. Instead, they entrusted the responsibility to the others. Carlisle pressed a small vial into Alice's deceptively dainty hand. The only response she gave was a silent nod, before dashing back the way we'd come. I didn't have a chance to question it, before I was once again pulled onto a vampire's back. Unlike before, it was Jasper who carried me back up the stairs.

Verleena was ready for us this time, but that didn't stop her from voicing her displeasure. It wasn't until I was separated from her canvas by two floors that the protestations of the scandalised virgin finally faded out.

Jasper was more careful than his brother when we reached our destination, and evidently had considered the physics involved in vampire transportation. Rather than pulling to a sudden halt, he gradually decelerated, for which I was entirely grateful, glad that I didn't have to peel myself of the cold floor yet again. I was confident that large bruises would already be blooming across my ghostly skin; if I received anymore, my butt would probably look as if it had been sheathed in white and purple tie-dyed fabric.

While the Fat Lady's portrait obstructed the entrance to Gryffindor, I could still discern the cacophonous shriek of the stair alarm, which was coupled with the sound of raucous activity as students streamed into the common room. That could only mean one thing: Edward had reached his target. The knowledge only served in intensifying my anger. To begin with, it had been simmering away in the pit of my belly, but it hadn't been unbearable; now, on the other hand, it frothed and spat like boiling water spilling over the edge of a pan. When I imagined that one-dimensional bimbo fluttering her eyelashes at my man, all I could think about was marching into Gryffindor and ripping her a new one.

"I'm not sure how we're going to go about this," Alice said uneasily, providing a temporary distraction.

"Simple," Rosalie grunted musically. "We storm in, hold him down, and force the anti-love drug down his throat until he snaps the hell out of it." That explained the vial. The vampire looked smug as she folded her arms. By the look on the faces of her husband and brother, they agreed with her. I did too, and it took everything I had not to cheer out 'woohoo' and request a high-five.

"As much as I'd love that," Alice replied, "Edward is currently tangled in her tendrils."

_Murder equals expulsion. Murder equals expulsion._

"So what?" said Emmett, while I continued my internal mantra.

"So we'll end up hurting Romilda if we try to pull Edward away by force."

"You're not doing a very good job of convincing me, Alice," Rosalie fired. "Why should _we_ care if that little tramp gets hurt?"

The psychic's palms flew up defensively. "Believe me, I want nothing more than an opportunity to wring her neck!" she shot back. Her voice was layered with acidity and disgust, so much so that I couldn't help but believe her. "But a brawl wouldn't only endanger _her, _it would also put any other nearby humans at risk. There's a huge chance that we'd be kicked out for breaking the community's trust."

I wanted to argue, but I had to acknowledge the logic in Alice's words. Emmett was the first to break the silence. He threw back his head and released a loud groan, before aiming a spiritless kick at the floor with the tip of his black boot.

"What's the plan then?" I asked, my eyes flying about the group.

Jasper sighed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until he's alone. He can't stay with Romilda every hour of the day. Maybe after she goes to sleep we'll—"

"To sleep! But that might not be for another twelve hours!" I exclaimed. Jasper looked apologetic, but didn't offer an alternative.

"Look," said Alice, "let's just see how it goes. I promise, Bella, the very second it's safe, we'll be on him like flies on meat." She patted my shoulder in gentle encouragement. Since there didn't seem to be any alternative, I nodded in irritated resignation. At the sound of the password, the Fat Lady swung forward to admit us, and I braced myself for what lay within.

My eyes quickly processed the scene around me. Filtering through the uniformed crowd, Edward's pearly skin and stunning features soon attracted my gaze. My heart dropped in an instant, an automatic reaction to the sight of him entwined with another woman. I barely registered Romilda, because I couldn't get over the adoration smeared across Edward's face. His eyes, which had darkened to a deep emerald, smouldered as they caressed the form of the girl he held. Romilda look equally enamoured. Her fingers were splayed across his chest, and every now and then, a sickening giggle would pop through her lips. Edward grinned, his arms coiling around her waist, before he bent down to kiss Romilda on the cheek.

I felt as if I was about to be sick. I wanted to flee the room to find the nearest toilet, but a wave of courage suddenly exploded up through my body, forcing my racing heart to calm itself. I glanced briefly to my left to smile at Jasper, who, in genuine concern, gave my shoulder a careful squeeze.

"Are you alright?"

I didn't reply until I knew I could answer truthfully, but once I was certain I could handle the sight of Edward and Romilda together, I nodded. And in all honesty, I _was _alright. To be sure, I was furious, but while the rational part of my brain continued to remind me that Edward was bewitched—that he was the one who finally needed to be rescued—I could deal.

I was a woman on a mission, a woman on a quest. I would save the prince from the clutches of the evil queen, possibly slaying said evil queen in the process, and then the two of us—the prince and I—would live happily ever after. This had to happen; the natural order of fairy-tales dictated it. Moreover, whilst Edward might be besotted with another girl, I perceived no sign of the reverence his face held the many times he had looked at me. On those occasions, he had made me feel like some kind of religious icon swathed in a giant halo of holy, white light, one staring down at a man whose eyes overflowed with wonder—a man who seemed to have discovered the meaning of life simply through being in my presence. I wasn't vain, of course. I didn't understand the reason behind the worshipful stares my fiancé had given me. I only knew their effect.

The other students looked anxious when they realised the presence of the Cullens and myself. The room had been buzzing with talk about 'the new couple'. According to Rosalie, there wasn't a student in the room who wasn't fully aware of the fact that Edward had consumed a love potion. The girls from my dorm had quickly spread the word in an attempt to preserve Edward's reputation. I sent a small smile of thanks in the direction of Hermione, Lavender, Ginny, and Parvati.

Edward's icy glare travelled over our company as we made our approach. The crowds parted for us, and Romilda's friends, all of whom had initially surrounded the happy couple, cautiously edged away, looking fearful as they took in the enraged expressions of Edward's siblings.

"Edward."

"Alice," he responded curtly. His sister's eyes snapped to Romilda, who quivered under the weight of her hot glare. "What do you want?"

"We want you to acknowledge the fact that you're under a spell, Edward," Rosalie snapped impatiently, before pointing at the witch in her brother's arms. "Last night, _she_ drugged you with a love potion."

In response to the accusation, a caustic hiss burst through Edward's lips, and he pressed Romilda more firmly against his chest. "Lies!"

"They aren't lies! If you don't believe _us, _why don't you hear it for yourself? Read her mind!"

"Because I don't have to," he barked. "I trust Romilda, and she's asked that I give her her privacy, which is what I intend to do."

"That doesn't sound like you," Alice retorted, her voice clipped. "When did you ever give Bella _her _privacy back in Forks? All those times you spied on her in gym, even when she asked you not to!"

Edward's eyes connected with mine. Despite the brevity of his glance, I managed to discern the flash of confusion that whipped across his face. He must have been wondering what he'd ever seen in me. I'd asked myself that question more times than I could count, but I'd always received the same response.

_You don't see yourself clearly. _The memory of that phrase was my life jacket. It kept me afloat in the expanding sea of chaos and uncertainty.

"Whatever I did back then is in the past," said Edward, staring down at Romilda. She had reclaimed his attention with a tug to his shirt. Although he was no longer looking in my direction, I knew those words had been meant for me as much as his siblings. Overcome with rage, I lost control of my tongue.

"So what?" I demanded, glaring at the witch. "Now that you've shattered my future, since you obviously don't care about wrecking people's lives—" Edward hissed, which stung, admittedly, but I ignored him and persevered, "—what are you going to do next, eh?"

"Whatever do you mean, Bella?" Romilda asked, her voice sickly-sweet as she flirtatiously ran a finger across the exposed flesh at Edward's collar, before moving lower over his chest and down to his abdomen.

"Well, Edward wants a mate, but, of course, he's immortal. You're not. Are you going to let him bite you?" I deeply enjoyed the way Romilda blanched. She tried to form a response many times, but couldn't seem to get the words out.

"Three whole days of searing agony," Rosalie sneered.

"Every moment, wishing for death," Jasper continued.

"So much so, you start to think you _are_ dead," Emmett scowled, "burning in Hell."

"ENOUGH!" roared Edward. He was so furious with his siblings and me that he accidentally gripped Romilda with too much force. At her sudden yelp, his glare transformed into a mask of panic, and he subsequently showered her with sincere apologise. All the while, I was waiting for him to release his hold on her—to give the Cullens the brief window they needed to jump him without causing injury—but it never happened.

"Maybe you'll get lucky, Romilda," Rosalie snickered. "He might kill you first."

The witch gawked at golden-haired vampire, but when Edward assured her that he knew of a way to make the transformation painless, she relaxed a little. Still, she didn't look convinced. She had clearly failed to consider the consequences of her little scheme.

"I know the pain of transformation, Romilda," I said, tugging back my sleeve to reveal my half-moon scar, "and trust me, morphine doesn't work."

Six heads snapped in my direction simultaneously. I knew from experience that the drug was rendered completely ineffective by the creeping venom, but I had never revealed this to the Cullens. I had hoped that I'd be able to summon enough will-power to keep my mouth shut when the time finally came, as it was my intention to protect Edward to the best of my ability. There was no reason for him to suffer with me.

My words provoked a scowl from Edward, which, again, I ignored. He wasn't in control.

After promising Romilda that they'd find and alternative form of pain relief, and that they'd discuss his changing her later, the pair scuttled away, moving with the crowd towards the portrait hole.

"Oh, and Bella," Edward called back over his shoulder, "I'm going to need my mother's ring back. You can leave it on my bedside table. I'll collect it later."

Romilda giggled, her anxieties now forgotten. With that, the witch and the vampire departed, disappearing out of Gryffindor tower, amidst a throng of moving bodies.

I couldn't help myself: the emotions tumbled out of me like water bursting through a damn. I broke down.

The rest of the day was much the same, filled with fear and misery. I had no doubt that the Cullens would find a way sooner or later; like Jasper had said, they just needed to wait until there were no fragile humans around. The amount of trouble Edward could get into until then, however, could be massive. There was nothing to stop him from biting Romilda. And the things Romilda might do to him! I shuddered at the thought.

After the confrontation in the common-room, Emmett had carried me upstairs to the boy's dormitory. He'd laid me on Edward's bed, where he and the others had murmured gentle reassurances. Alice had reclined beside me, providing me with a shoulder to cry on. She had stoked my hair while her shirt had absorbed my tears. In an attempt to soothe me, Rosalie had sat on my other side, and had whispered in my ear every method of torture she could think of.

Despite my tears, I laughed.

Once I'd managed to get a grip, the Cullens led me out of Gryffindor tower. Alice foresaw that Edward wouldn't be taking his regular classes; his growing obsession with Romilda meant that he couldn't bring himself to part with her, and so he escorted her about the school. Since there wasn't a lot he could get up under the watchful gaze of the teachers, the Cullens and I decided that we would resume Operation Antidote after lessons had finished for the day.

I couldn't concentrate at all. Whenever a teacher would ask me a question, I would always give him or her the wrong answer, which was unusual for me. Esme and Carlisle must have filled them in; that, or they'd simply overheard the gossiping students, because they all seemed to react sympathetically. Professor Flitwick slipped me a jolly-bean in an attempt to cheer me up (the Australian candy was gaining popularity in Britain), but I couldn't bring myself to eat it. Instead, I slipped it into my pocket, resolving to savour it once the problem had been dealt with.

At dinner time, I stared with longing at my vampire. Romilda was perched on his lap, her arms cast about his neck. When she rubbed her nose to his, I heaved. Luckily, my stomach was empty, so I didn't projectile vomit onto the rack of lamb in front of me. In my depressed state, I hadn't eaten a single thing all day, even though Hermione had filled my plate with minted potatoes and succulent looking filet-mignon. Despite her constant insistence that I should eat something, I couldn't manage it. My appetite had gone on vacation.

Edward, too, it appeared, hadn't eaten. Nowadays, the Cullens generally kept to a diet of dragon's blood, but its nature meant that they could only consume a couple of goblets a day, unless they were willing to suffer a horrific hangover. While the magical blood kept the thirst at bay, they had to consume it every day to keep themselves sated.

In his state of obsession, Edward had clearly neglected his diet. His eyes were darkening rapidly, his pupils almost indiscernible against the inky green of his irises. We sat at opposite ends of the table, but I watched him the whole time.

At one point, Romilda caught me staring. She arched an eyebrow, and seemed to grow increasingly irritated when I refused to look away. My fingers clutched the edge of the table as she turned to whisper in Edward's ear. He smiled pleasantly back at her, and nodded his head, before rising from his place on the bench. Together, they marched across the length of the hall, hands swinging between them, and exited the room.

I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I barely registered the way Alice's eyes suddenly glazed over. Without stopping to ask her about the vision, I jumped up from the table, possessed by an abrupt idea, and stalked after the harpy and my yet-to-be-rescued fiancé.

"Bella, wait!" cried Emmett, who was hushed shortly afterwards by his psychic sister.

"Let her go, Em."

"But—"

"Trust me."

The heads of the students turned to me as I raced from the room. The Slytherins jeered and hooted as I left, but I had bigger fish to fry than those low-lifes.

Romilda led Edward to a deserted corridor on the third floor. I kept a careful distance. With his acute senses, I accepted the unlikeliness of Edward failing to realise my proximity, not that I let that stop me. He didn't give any indication of having sensed my nearness, but that was probably because he was too wrapped up in Romilda.

"It's just you me now," she purred, allowing Edward to press her against the wall. In the dim light of the corridor, my human eyes could only make out a pair of silhouettes, but that was enough. I caught every movement—understood every touch. I held my breath as Edward slowly lowered his head to Romida's, my heart accelerating with every passing second, until I could no longer stand by and watch.

In one moment of pure, surging adrenaline, I snatched the wand from the depths of my pocket, and aimed it determinedly at my delicate, waiting flesh.

I barely noticed the pain, even though it ripped down my arm like an electric current—hot and sharp. My every thought was riveted on the godlike creature standing down the corridor. A gust of air breezed in through an open window, gently rustling my unpinned hair.

Edward flinched, his whole body suddenly turning rigid. My heart, meanwhile, began hammering out a frenzied rhythm against my ribcage. It echoed in my ears as Edward—_my _Edward—steadily, yet purposefully, extricated himself from that deceitful cretin, whom I wanted nothing more than to beat to a bloody pulp.

Hope fluttered in my chest as my bewitched fiancé slowly turned. It was the scent of my blood (irresistible to him as it was) which had prevented the kiss. Whatever trick magic could play on his emotions, there was no potion in existence potent enough to confuse his most basic, carnal desires, for which I was exceedingly grateful. No blood smelled sweeter to Edward than mine, and for one, brief, glorious moment, I rejoiced in the fact that I—_I_, not Romilda Vane, or any other for that matter—was his Singer.

That was until I saw his eyes.

Like a meteor tearing through the ozone, or lead plunging through water, my heart dropped. The pulse in my neck and temples set my skin flaring. Heat rippled over my cheeks … my throat … my chest, turning my upper-body what must have been an appetising shade of pink. The air undulated in my heaving lungs, but rather than provide some measure of relief, it was rendered completely ineffective, thanks to the building terror inspired by the ravenous gaze of the vampire.

In that moment, that was precisely what Edward was—a vampire, the ultimate predator—and I was his prey. As he took his first step in my direction, his lips pulled back into a smile oozing sex and sin. Gooseflesh covered my arms, while the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I stepped backwards automatically.

For some reason, the vampire found this amusing, his mouth twitching at the corners. "Hello, Isabella," he purred, the texture of his voice even closer to velvet than usual.

I tried to answer, but my mouth was as dry as a desert. A not-so-subtle gulp caught in my throat as he continued to edge towards me. At the signs of my fear, he gave another low chuckle.

"I said hello. When someone greets you, Isabella, it's polite to respond."

"H-h-hi," I stuttered, almost stumbling as I took another step back. Further down the corridor, Romilda stood rooted to the spot, her frightened eyes snapping from the crimson trickle at my arm to Edward, and back again.

_That's right, _I wanted to scream at her, _I'm going to die, and it's all your fault! _I hoped the guilt would drive her to do something stupid, like jumping off a cliff—anything to keep her away from Edward. I almost wanted to laugh out loud. There I was, an inch from death, and all I could concentrate on was the jealousy bubbling in my blood.

"Where are you going, Isabella?" Edward questioned silkily, demanding my attention. There was no disapproval in his voice. If anything, I think he hoped that I would run—the hunt would give him the thrill he craved.

"Edward, please—"

"Please, what?"

"Please, stop. Y-you don't w-want to do this."

"Oh, d-d-d-don't I?" he mocked. Light from the burning wall torches glinted off his brilliant teeth as he smirked. "On the contrary, I think you'll find that I really, really do. Your blood is irresistible, Bella, and I'm tired of fighting it."

Only once before had I ever seen him like this—the first time I had sat beside him in the biology lab—but, even then, he had found a way to fight the longing awakened by my blood, whereas now that desire was completely unrestrained. Edward had every intention of satisfying it. His nostrils flared abruptly as he inhaled my scent, and I could tell by the way he closed his eyes that he was savouring it, anticipating the moment when his teeth would perforate my skin. He licked his lips. On any other occasion, that sight would have given birth to a flood of desire; tonight, however, it only served in heightening my fear.

A perpendicular passageway, which led to a narrow, circular staircase, joined the corridor at its midpoint. If I continued on my current path, I would eventually meet a dead end; on the other hand, the stairs would be difficult to navigate whilst travelling backwards. If Edward didn't kill me first, I'd probably fall and break my neck. Still, there was no alternative, and so I carefully backed my way around the corner, all the while maintaining eye contact with the stalking vampire. He followed me silently, his feet producing no discernible sound as they connected with the hard floor, unlike my own.

"You're under a spell," I told him. "This isn't the real Edward."

This time, rather than the gloating smile, a contemptuous sneer crept onto his face. His black eyes remained fixed on me. "Stupid girl," he spat, "how very wrong you are."

I flinched, stopping short in the middle of the corridor. Edward continued towards me, his expression calm and unapologetic following the cruel remark. Moisture gathered at the corners of my eyes. Never before had my once devoted fiancé spoken to me in such a way; even during arguments and disputes, I had always been able to perceive the adoration swimming beneath the thin layer of negativity.

Not anymore.

It was true: with every fibre of my being, I clutched to the knowledge that Edward's current behaviour was all a product of Romilda's selfish magic, but even that awareness wasn't enough to remove the pain I felt, or prevent the tears from leaking down my face.

Edward arched an eyebrow and took another step forward. I didn't react. I was too distraught to care about what might happen to me. All I wanted now was to be close to him, and since this was the only way to achieve that, there seemed little point in running. Besides, I wasn't fast enough to escape a vampire. It would be pointless to try.

I closed my eyes. My heart continued to panic like an animal trapped inside a cage, threatening to send me into cardiac arrest. After a few deep breaths, however, I put all my energy and focus into finding my happy place. Like film projected onto a blank screen, comforting images erupted suddenly through my mind: Edward and me in the meadow … our first kiss … the night he'd asked me to marry him … the look he'd worn the moment I'd said yes.

I sighed. If these were to be the last moments of my life, I was grateful that I at least had happy memories to fill them with.

Perhaps I was acting on some self-preserving instinct—perhaps I hoped that there was still a chance of dissuading the vampire from his deadly pursuit, because, without giving much thought to it, I flung open my mind to him, intent on sharing those final seconds with the man I loved—the man who was about to murder me in order to satisfy his own burning thirst.

His fingertips ghosted over my cheekbones, so gently that I could almost pretend he had approached me for another reason entirely. With his touch came memories from our time in Forks, when he had caressed my face as we stood outside the gym.

"That was a long time ago," he murmured softly. "Things change."

"Not for vampires," I whispered, my eyes snapping open. "That's what you told me." _You said that change was permanent for your kind—that a vampire falls in love once, and doesn't fall out._

Despite the icy temperature of his skin, his touch left a burning trail as it gently followed the line of my jaw, moving down my neck, past the hollow at the base of my throat, and along my collar bone.

"I was wrong," he said. I shivered as he took a step closer, one arm ensnaring my waist, while the other continued its exploration. His body was firmly pressed against mine now. I could feel every contour of his diamond-hard chest as he towered over me. When I felt his wintry breath wash against my face, my eyes automatically flashed open.

Once again, I was left breathless by the vision of the creature before me. His beauty was unparalleled and absolute; there was nothing in the world to equal it. The moonlight washing in through the nearest arched window framed his face with an ethereal glow as it reflected off his alabaster skin. The subtle aura provided the perfect balance for his black irises and the shadows beneath his eyes. He could have been an angel—a dark angel, granted, but an angel nonetheless.

His nose skimmed my neck as he lowered his head to my throat. My fingers found his hair, weaving their way through the bronze of their own accord. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, crackling like livewires. A few seconds later, when I felt Edward's tongue dance across my skin, I couldn't help but sigh. He'd been right when he'd told me my reactions were always backwards. That last thought elicited another soft chuckle.

His lips parted against my flesh as he prepared to bite through the delicate membrane. There I was, about to die, and all I could think about was the way his arms were wound about me, and his delicious immortal perfume. My only regret was that this was as good as it would get. I would never get to experience the one thing I'd wanted the most. My eyes flashed wide, an automatic reaction to the sudden rush of internal cogs.

_STOP!_

Edward froze at my command.

I gulped, my heart flying once more into a sudden frenzy. I had no idea whether or not the vampire would agree to the idea taking shape in my head, but I was determined to plead my case. By this point, I really didn't care whether or not I would come across as desperate. I was about to die for heaven's sake. Why shouldn't I voice my last request?

"Isabella," Edward warned sternly. Without loosening his grip, he pulled back slightly.

"Please," I begged. My heart sank when he shook his head.

"I love Romilda."

The words were like a dagger plunging into my chest. Somehow, though, I managed to ignore the pain. I absolutely refused to give in. By the hungry look in his eyes, I guessed that Edward was still intent on drinking my blood, but even if his guilt were miniscule, it was still enough that he chose to stop and listen.

"You're going to kill me—to take away my life. Shouldn't you at least give me this?"

A frown darkened the vampire's countenance. "And betray Romilda?"

"Surely that should be the last thing to matter. I'm about to be murdered, Edward," I repeated, stressing each word. "By You. For my blood, I think I deserve payment."

My shield came slamming down like steel shutters, protecting my thoughts from intrusion. I wanted some privacy as I pondered my last statement.

What the hell was I doing? I sounded insane. In fact, I sounded like a common prostitute … or was it the other way round? Considering what I was asking of Edward, if he agreed, wouldn't he be the one selling his body? Selling his body in return for a means to live … How bizarre.

A myriad of emotions played across his face: doubt, guilt, fear, desire … all were present as he warred with his conscience.

"You're right," he said eventually. My heart leapt in my chest, thumping into elated overdrive. "But … Romilda—"

"Doesn't have to know," I interrupted. "I'm not going to be around to tell her after all."

Edward nodded. As the seconds passed, his expression became more and more resolved, until finally, he was leading me out of the corridor, his hand laced with mine.

He stopped before the door of an unused classroom. After pushing it open, he scooped me up off the ground, and carried me bridal-style over the threshold. Once again, crisp, white moonlight streamed in from outside. Desks and chairs were stacked in one corner of the empty room, but it otherwise remained completely unoccupied. Because we had no bed and no blanket, Edward didn't object when I removed my wand from my pocket and cast a Thermal Charm. Instead, he watched in silence from across the room as I performed the magic.

Under his obsidian gaze, I shivered with pleasure. Everything about Edward was intense as he made his approach. Without a word, he laid a palm on the flat of my stomach, asserting the lightest pressure until I was pressed up against the classroom wall. My breath came and went in shallow gasps as my fingers found their way inside his robes. The black garment fell to the floor, and was joined shortly afterwards by my own. A loud feminine moan filled the room as Edward crushed his lips to mine. There was nothing careful about him now; instead, his movements and actions rang with urgency.

The kiss was electric, almost agonising in its intensity. I was so involved in the way our lips attacked one another's that I didn't even realise when Edward's hands expertly moved from one button to the next. I was still fumbling with the second one on his shirt when he finished unfastening my blouse. The white cotton fell away as he pushed it back off my shoulders, exposing the pale plains of my chest and arms.

"Christ, Bella."

I inhaled sharply at his words. Desire surged through my body, white-hot and all-consuming, threatening to raze every morsel of tissue to ash. Edward's eyes, similarly, smouldered with lust, but I couldn't tell whether that was still a result of my self-inflicted wound, or whether I was slowly but surely awakening the real Edward. Maybe he was simply pretending for my benefit, but it really didn't seem that way to me. Whatever the reason, he was clearly impatient, because he wasn't prepared to wait for me to finish unfastening his shirt. He ripped it open himself, sending buttons flying in every direction.

My back connected forcefully with the wall as Edward crashed back against me, his upper body now completely stripped. The collision left a throbbing ache in my shoulders. I almost had to bite my lip against the pain, but the ultimate distraction came in the form of the vampire's mouth, which smothered the potential for a groan of discomfort. A charged growl vibrated up from his chest as I traced his mouth with my tongue. My need seemed to fuel Edward's as oil would nourish fire, because his large masculine hands suddenly loosened their tight hold on my hips, and began moving towards a new destination.

As they travelled up and over my ribcage, I hastily flung open my mind.

_Hold me tighter, _I pleaded, feeling as if I might die if he didn't. The vampire's breathing matched my own. Although he didn't need the air, excitement had his chest rising and falling with increased speed. At my encouragement, he increased the pressure of his touch, pressing me tighter to the wall. Even then, he still wasn't close enough for my liking.

I gasped loudly as he nudged my legs apart with his thigh. My fingers feverishly grabbed at his hair, whilst his danced at the edge of my lacy, white bra. I shivered with anticipation, and inhaled the delicious lilac-sunshine scent that fanned across my face when he exhaled.

"Bella," he growled in a voice rugged with desire.

My heart thudded. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even think. His hands were driving me to the edge of insanity as they traced over the thin layer of fabric. A desperate whimper was the only noise my mouth could form. It possessed an almost haunting quality as it filled the silvery night, disturbing the quiet like a wraith.

Finally, Edward's cool fingers finally slinked beneath my bra.

Total. Utter. Bliss.

I threw my head back in rapture. The feeling of his skin against mine was indescribable. Over and over, he teased, stroked, and massaged my flesh, and over and over I tried to tell him not to stop, but my tongue couldn't wrap itself properly around the words I wanted to communicate.

My mind screamed in protest when his right hand stopped its ministrations and slipped away.

"Nuh!"

"Ssh," he soothed, when I tried to halt his withdrawal. He ran his lips along my jaw, placing kisses here and there, working his way to my ear, which he flicked with his tongue. I jerked against his palm when I suddenly felt his hand press against me through my skirt.

A burst of euphoric colour exploded behind my eyes as they rolled back into my head. How had I ever gone without this? For so long, I'd craved—had been starved of, even—the sensation Edward was currently bringing me, and now that I had it, I didn't want it to end.

But an ending was inevitable.

I had no intention of darkening the moment with thoughts of my impending doom, nor did I want my emotions to infect Edward—I would never experience _this _again, and that thought saddened me beyond belief—which was why I brought my mental defences slamming down once more. With the thoughts of my approaching demise contained, there was less chance that the vampire would get distracted. Anything else would probably have excited him far too much, and I wasn't quite ready to die yet.

"More, please. More," I begged, diving back into the euphoria.

Edward hissed, the sound laced with hunger. He kissed me greedily, his hands snatching at the waist of my skirt. The discordant tearing of fabric ripped through the air, while the vampire sucked on my lower lip. I could hardly believe that he was as inexperienced in this territory as I was; he seemed to know precisely what to do to set every neuron in my body fizzing with heat. My grey woollen tights were the next casualty, leaving nothing but a thin layer of white lace to protect my virtue.

Suddenly, I was being lifted off the floor, my weight supported by Edward's muscular arms as he propped me against the wall.

"I still want you," he growled against my ear. His voice was low and throaty as he made the admission, and I detected a glimmer of surprise as I stared into the flat black of his eyes. "I shouldn't still want you … but I do."

"I want you too," I moaned, teetering on the edge of madness as he stroked me through the lacy barrier. I felt ravenous as I laid my fiery kisses across his neck. Every cell in my body was alive, thrumming with burning energy. I grasped at his shoulder blades as he unbuttoned his trousers, and was so overwhelmed by Edward's sudden abandon that I almost failed to notice the tiny creature hovering behind him, who was apparently trying to capture my attention.

I felt my brow knit with confusion, and squinted against the darkness, convinced that I was seeing things. The more I concentrated, however, the more I was sure it wasn't my imagination. Seated on a bumblebee, little more than a metre away, was an Abatwa fairy, waving above her head what appeared to be a minute silver decanter.

She pointed to my crimson wound, her brown eyes wide and imploring. The honesty was plain on her face, which was probably why I decided to trust her so implicitly. In a subtle movement, I twisted my arm outward, and placed another kiss on Edward's neck.

I felt his icy breath against my throat, and shivered.

"Bella," he whispered, sweeping back my hair.

The fairy, meanwhile, urged her insect forwards. It surprised me that I couldn't hear a buzzing noise, considering how many times the Cullens had mentioned it previously. Why didn't Edward notice it now?

After uncorking her flask, the Abatwa fairy, carefully drizzled warm scarlet liquid down my arm. I had seen similar magic on numerous occasions, but I was still surprised by how much fluid the tiny decanter contained.

All of a sudden, Edward went completely rigid. My heart pounded in my chest as the fairy flew away. Although I had no clue of her intention, I knew in my gut that it was imperative she remained unseen by the vampire. He couldn't know what had just transpired.

His nostrils flared again as he pulled away, and his gaze dropped swiftly to my arm. I winced as he snatched it up, not out of pain exactly. I was more surprised than anything.

"You smell off," he remarked abruptly, no kindness in his voice now as he sniffed my arm. In the last few minutes, I had watched the real Edward push his way closer and closer to the surface; with this new distraction, however, the cold face of the predator came rushing back. I could see it in the flat black of his eyes, and I immediately felt stupid for naively putting my faith in a fairy I knew nothing about.

"What?"

"You smell off," he enunciated again, eyes distrustful. "What have you done, Bella?"

I blinked at the accusation. Edward had once told me I'd make a terrible actress. I couldn't afford to prove him right. "I haven't done anything. I've been right here!"

_Don't talk too much, Bella, otherwise you'll give yourself away._

Edward tapped my arm impatiently with his right index finger. "This blood isn't yours. It doesn't smell anything like you."

"Are you trying to distract me?" I fired, opting for a new approach. That threw him. Doubt filled his eyes as they flicked from my arm to my face, and back again.

"Something's not right," he murmured to himself with a shake of his head. Cautiously, he mopped up the blood with his finger. A deep furrow disturbed the smooth skin between his obsidian eyes as he lifted it to his nose. After one long sniff, he released another loud moan of hunger. Whatever the nature of the mystery liquid, it was still mixed with the scent of my blood—certainly enough to tempt Edward.

I forced my expression to remain blank as he inserted his fingers into his mouth. He greedily sucked away the crimson substance, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. The pulse raged on beneath my skin, sending the blood crashing through my veins.

Either I would die in the next few seconds, or I wouldn't.

I was unprepared for the look I perceived in Edward's eyes when they next flashed open.

"Bella?"

I'd never seen him look so confused in all the time that I'd known him. His head snapped in the direction of the door and back again, before he allowed his eyes to trail down the length of my body. "I love you."

Hope exploded inside me like a firework—

"But Romilda …"

—and fizzled out in the next second. The potion was still in effect then … but something had definitely changed in Edward. The spell still had its hold on him, but its grip had loosened. Acting on instinct, I thrust my arm up to his mouth.

"Drink!"

Edward looked horrified. "What?"

"The blood on my arm," I answered urgently, begging him with my eyes, "drink it. Please, Edward!"

Despite his confusion, Edward did as I asked, one hand gently taking hold of my wrist, while he used the other to cup my elbow. He inhaled the scent of the blood, before running his tongue along my arm. His eyes snapped open as he reached the crook of my elbow, more doubt visible now in his dark eyes. Without a word, he continued to lap up as much of the fluid as possible, becoming more and more feverish in his movements as the seconds passed. Finally, when the last trace of blood had been removed, my fiancé stumbled back, giving me the first glimpse of his face. At the sight of Edward's expression, I gasped in absolute shock.

He. Was. Livid.

In those next few moments, he was rage personified. Snarl after snarl erupted from his lips as his chest rapidly rose and fell. Without warning, his fist suddenly connected with the wall, smashing through the top layer of stone. Debris collected on the floor by our feet, while a cloud of dust swirled through the air, forming a chalky bubble which engulfed the pair of us.

I didn't even dare breathe. Edward's flawless control had made him skilled in concealing his emotions, so it was a rare occurrence to see such an expression appear on his face. When I had witnessed it in the past, however, it had usually preceded serious physical injury, or worse: a bloody death.

_This is it, _I thought, bracing myself against the wall. _He's going to kill me._

Edward surprised me, however, and reached down to swipe my robes of the floor, which he then draped around my shoulders. His lips pulled back into another ferocious snarl, revealing two perfect sets of venom-coated teeth.

"Edward, what's going on?"

He didn't answer, even when I asked a second time, and, instead, about-faced, before marching determinedly towards the door.

I squeaked in surprised as the rest of the Cullens came crashing through, and wound the robes tighter about my frame as heat pooled in my cheeks. Alice danced immediately to her brother's side, and handed him a vial filled with more crimson liquid.

"To counter any remaining effects," she said simply. She, like her brother, looked extremely pissed.

Edward snatched it from her, and drank without question. He glugged it down as if parched, and didn't stop until he'd consumed every last drop. When nothing remained of the potion, his fingers crushed the vial to pieces, its shards subsequently raining down and clinking against the floor.

Carlisle stepped forwards, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. Edward growled fiercely and shook it off. "Now, Edward—"

"Don't you dare!" Edward bellowed with bared teeth, his eyes hysterical as he turned to face his father. "Because of that selfish, little slut, I almost destroyed the most important thing in my life! I'm not angry, Carlisle! I'm god-damn irate!"

"I understand that, but—"

Carlisle's words fell on deaf ears though, because Edward was too busy stomping from the room. He was so furious that he ripped the door of its hinges. I couldn't make sense of anything that was happening, and stared on in absolute shock as Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Carlisle marched on after him. Only Esme stayed behind. In a blur of silvery-white, she flitted to my side, startling me from my astonishment.

"Sorry, dear," she said sincerely, noting my surprise. Only then did I notice the bag she carried. After fishing out a handful of garments, she quickly offered them to me, before turning away to give me some privacy.

"What just happened, Esme?" I asked, hurriedly stepping into a pair of jeans.

She heaved a sigh, and ran a hand through her unpinned caramel hair. "Alice foresaw that Edward would hurt you if he heard us coming, so we enlisted the help of the Abatwa fairy in exchange for diamonds. She's been tailing Alice and Rosalie for the last two days, eyeing their bracelets and necklaces. Their jewellery was the only thing keeping her here. We gave her half earlier, and promised to return the rest of the diamonds after she helped us. No doubt I'll be seeing her later."

Ok, so that made sense. "What then?"

"McGonagall cast a charm on her to muffle the sound of her bumblebee, and since Edward can barely hear the thoughts of fairies, he had no way of knowing she was there."

"And that liquid she tipped onto my arm?"

"An antidote to the love potion. She couldn't carry enough to completely dispel the effects though, which was why we brought more once Edward was sane enough to let us near."

I nodded, before pulling a beige sweater over my head. "And where is he going now?" I pressed, fearing I already knew the answer. As much as I felt like strangling Romilda, I didn't actually want her harmed … not really. It was not in Edward's normal chivalrous character to use the language he had when discussing a female, and despite my anger, I was seriously frightened about what he would do to the girl who had caused us so much trouble.

Esme spun back to me. She wore an expression that clearly said _'you already know the answer to that'_. "Come on, climb on my back. If anyone stands a chance of calming him down, it's you. I don't think even Jasper will be able to do much after what's happened."

After packing up my discarded uniform, I did as Esme instructed and jumped onto her back. A ruffled McGonagall came running through the door not a second later, red-faced and out of breath, followed closely by Professor Fulplume and Slughorn.

"Wh … What happened," puffed the head-mistress, one hand fluttering at her chest as she leant against the doorframe.

In a rush to join the others, Esme speedily summarised the previous five minutes. I doubted that the teachers understood half of it, for the vampire spoke too quickly, most of her words blurring together.

"Sorry, Minerva. Have to run!" And that was that. Esme tore out of the classroom and down the corridors of Hogwarts like a homing missile. I had to bury my face against her neck to avoid the windburn that accompanied her speed.

"Oh no," she murmured, after we made it onto the Grand Staircase.

My heart stuttered in its cage. "What?"

"Romilda just left the girls' dormitory. She was getting changed, but now she's run straight into Edward. He was waiting for her with the others in the common-room. It's busy. He's going to make a scene."

…

"Esme, run faster." There's just no rest for the wicked.

**EPOV**

Romilda looked wary as she caught sight of my family and me. Now that I was free of the artificial emotions she'd planted with her spell, I felt no guilt as I entered her mind.

_ I wonder why he's shirtless. Mmm, yum! Oh, I hope he hasn't killed Bella. That wouldn't look good._

Never before had I wanted so badly to maim a human being, not even when I'd been forced to listen to the sick fantasies of Mike Newton. If the girl's pathetic lack of a conscience had infuriated me a minute ago, it almost sent me over the edge now. Still, I didn't allow myself to lose control. I wanted my revenge too much for that, and I had a point to prove, not only to Romilda Vane, but to every other human occupying that space.

I smiled sweetly at her, fake adoration filling my expression. Her rapid heartbeat slowed a little, until a sickly smile formed on her face.

_Edward, _Carlisle warned as I held out my hand.

"He's not going to kill her, Carlisle," Alice whispered, too low for the humans to hear.

Wasn't I? I sure as hell wanted to. Not only had that stupid, selfish witch endangered Bella, she'd also put the possibility of Renesmee at risk. Without her mother, my beautiful daughter would never have the chance to live. I had almost lost the two most important beings in my world in the space of five minutes, all because of the repulsive, self-centred creature standing opposite me.

At the affectionate gesture, Romilda sashayed past her gawking friends, pleased by their jealousy.

_Not for long,_ I thought, venom pooling in my mouth.

Behind me, Carlisle bristled. While he wished no harm upon the girl, he believed she and others needed to learn the lesson I was about to give them, if only to prevent putting Bella in a similar situation in the future. Still, I doubt he would have been able to simply stand by without Alice's promise. Like Rosalie, her scowl deepened with every step the witch took. Jasper had a hard time keeping the disgust off his face, and not only because he was feeding off the emotions of the others. If Alice had been the one in Bella's shoes, Jasper would have had no problem murdering the culprit after having his senses restored. Having said that, Alice would have had no problem murdering the culprit before that could have happened.

Romilda's warm hand fell into my open palm. The second it did, I spun her round at vampiric speed, pulling her arm behind her back. A sickening click and a shriek of pain pierced the air as her shoulder dislocated, causing the bones to protrude at an unnatural angle.

The surrounding children gasped and stumbled back. Venom welled in my mouth as the smell of their fear seeped into the air. It soaked it up like a sponge, until the scent was almost an entity of its own. Ignoring it became almost impossible. Everything in that space: the accelerated heartbeats, the adrenaline, the heavy breathing, the beads of perspiration—everything intensified the scent hanging in the atmosphere, thus fuelling the bloodlust which I had previously worked so hard to tame.

Romilda sobbed as my grip tightened. My eyes caught the vein in her neck, which throbbed against the delicate membrane. I wanted so badly to rip it open. I wanted so badly to make her pay for what she'd done—for what she'd almost made me do.

Behind me, Carlisle fearfully searched the psychic's face. Alice shrugged nonchalantly. "I said he wouldn't kill her."

Our father's thoughts were horrified as he processed my sister's words. He couldn't believe that I had it in me to willingly torture a human, nor could he believe that Alice had it in her to act so insouciantly as she allowed me to do so. We were his protégés after all, controlled and responsible as a result of his teachings, yet there we were, mercilessly inflicting pain like common, heartless vampires.

I bent my head to the witch's neck, and ran my nose along her skin. She whimpered; I smiled. "What's wrong, Romilda? I thought this was what you wanted—a vampire's kiss."

Stupidly, she struggled against my hold, screaming again at the pain it caused her shoulder. "Edward, please! You're hurting me!"

"Am I?" I asked, faking shock. I let go of her arm, before spinning her back around to face me. I wanted her to see my total lack of sympathy—to know how entirely I despised her. Her eyes widened with fear, brimming with tears as she gazed into my black glare. Just as I was about to growl out my warning—to tell her that if she ever pulled a similar stunt again, I would rip her to shreds and feed her to Fang, Hagrid's dopey bloodhound— the portrait suddenly swung open.

Bella's expression was calm and composed as she marched in with my mother. She showed no surprise at all at my cruel behaviour, nor did the sight of Romilda's damaged shoulder seem to faze her. The crowds parted to admit her, the eyes of the Gryffindors still wide with fear.

"What do you think they're going to do?" Viola Knight whispered to Amicus Fortison. The two stood off to the side, both looking worried and simultaneously elated.

Amicus shrugged. "Probably chop of her head and use it as a Quaffle."

I smirked. The idea had potential.

My gaze flew from the snivelling girl to Bella. After studying the injury a moment longer, she met my eyes with a look of the utmost seriousness. Her head flicked to my brothers and sisters, all of whom were continuing to leer at the whimpering witch in my clutch.

Although I understood what Bella was asking me to do, I wasn't finished with Romilda. I wanted to frighten her so much that she'd never dare to lay eyes on me again. Still, if I continued to touch her for much longer, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to leave her alive; and so, I bent down until my face was level with hers, and delivered the last words I would ever speak to her.

"I should kill you for what you've done," I said slowly. A fresh flood of tears spilled down her cheeks. Her lips quivered in fear, as she continued to breathe unevenly. "If you so much as look at me again, I won't hurt you … I'll destroy you. Do you understand me?"

Without a word, Romilda nodded. I leaned in closer, leaving only an inch to separate us. The tiny hairs on her white skin bristled with the proximity. They trembled violently as I suddenly released a deafening guttural roar. The children in the room screamed and jumped back, thrown into a terrified frenzy by the primitive burst. The girl, meanwhile, was trembling like a leaf, and only then did I retreat, but not before I spun her around to face Bella.

Bella stepped forwards. For a long time, she said nothing, and simply stared into the eyes of the sobbing witch, which were now puffy and red. Without warning, she mechanically lifted her arm, and shot a spell from her wand. Romilda screamed in pain as her joints snapped back into their proper position. Her initial relief soon faded when she realised my fiancée hadn't finished.

_That's why Edward didn't kill me! So that _she _could!_

"I'm sorry!" cried Romilda, stumbling backward.

Gold seemed to ooze from Bella's pupils as she stalked towards her newest rival. The lioness was close … angrily prowling beneath the surface. The more she clawed for release, the clearer her thoughts echoed in my head.

_…thinks she can steal _my _Edward? My vampire?_

I grinned.

Finally, Romilda backed into a wall, leaving nowhere else for her to go. She was trapped, like a rabbit in a burrow. "Please! I won't do it again!"

"Damn right you won't! What you did tonight was beyond reckless! That man," growled Bella, her voice low and deadly as she pointed in my direction, "is a vampire, not some yellow-eyed teddy-bear you can snuggle up with when it suits you!"

There was something very enjoyable about watching Bella bear her teeth at Romilda. The pleasure was only heightened when I thought of how large those teeth could become, and all within a matter of seconds.

"What I don't understand," said the golden-eyed witch, "is how you managed to pull it off. Your scent should have been all over that cup, but I got a whiff of it myself this morning, after you left the common-room on the arm of _my _fiancé. I got nothing, no scent that would link the potion back to you. So how did you do it?"

As Bella's acerbic hiss, Romilda trembled against the wall, before finally stuttering, "I n-n-never touched the cup. I used a hover charm to get it into the dorm."

The thoughts of my family thundered in outrage. Emmett even had to restrain Rosalie, who leaned towards the girl, possessed of a hungry look.

"Wow. That's low. You're better than I gave you credit for," Bella said in disgust. She shook her head, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. I had no sympathy for Romilda. She thought it was ok to mess with the lives of those around her, and for that, she deserved everything she got as far as I was concerned. Bella seemed to agree. She inched forwards, her molten glare furious and penetrating as it held her rival's eyes. "This isn't the first time either, is it? You tried to get Harry two years ago. Try it again, Romilda, and, next time, I won't stop the Cullens, or lift a finger to help. If you ever put me, or anyone else for that matter, in a position like that again, on your head be it!"

Romilda gulped and nodded. Bella stared into her eyes for a second longer, all traces of warm chocolate banished by livid molten honey. Finally satisfied, she turned away, leaving the unworthy Gryffindor to flee the scene. Romilda Vane bolted for the girls' staircase, and ran to her dorm to lick her wounds. Bella, on the other hand, approached me and took my hand, before leading me in the opposite direction.

We left my family and the crowds of Gryffindors behind, both of us hungry for privacy, which only the Come-and-Go Room could offer us. The harp didn't play that night, nor was the bed sprinkled with rose petals. I could only conclude that the room sensed our mood, and realised that now was not the time to play matchmaker.

I couldn't even look at Bella. I was too ashamed for that, and sat with my back to her on the edge of the mattress. I felt her move towards me, and pressed my hands tightly against my sides, determined to keep myself from touching her. I didn't deserve that privilege, not after nearly killing her. Whether it was my fault or not was irrelevant. Delicate hands crept over my shoulders. I could feel their heat through the fabric of my clothing. Sighing, I shifted forwards, breaking the contact.

"Edward." Whether I could read her mind or not, I knew exactly what she was about to say.

"Don't Bella." My sullen command was met with a brief silence, which fed the tension already forming between us.

"Are you mad at me?" Bella asked suddenly. My mouth gaped open in shock. Without thinking, I shot up from the bed and spun to face my fiancée, the air whistling at my speed.

"What?"

"Are you mad at me?" Was this for real? Had I just experienced a completely different evening to the girl perched on the bed? Incredulously, I searched her face. A genuine furrow had materialised on her brow, above a pair of worried eyes.

"You? Why on earth would _I _be mad at _you_?" My eyes slammed shut in fury. The anger was not Bella's doing, but I still couldn't stand to look at her. She was innocent. Too innocent, perhaps. Too trusting. Too willing to overlook my flaws. Seeing her, in the light of myself, made my own monstrousness seem all the more pronounced.

I heard, rather than saw, her climb off the bed, the covers rustling as she shifted. I felt her breath on my face as she approached me.

"Aren't you disgusted with me?" My eyes snapped open again at the fear in her voice, which was barely more than a whisper. "For what I asked you to do in the classroom?"

"Ah… That."

"Yes … That." Suddenly, her worries made sense; but, of course, I wasn't mad with her.

"Why would I be disgusted?" I asked, relaxing against her warm body. "It wasn't the first time you've asked."

She bit her lip. "No, but I … I kind of took advantage of you, didn't I?"

Again, she was getting it all wrong. Backwards. "Bella," I exhaled, shaking my head in exasperation, "I was planning on killing you. I think that's the more serious issue here."

"No," she argued, lowering her eyes, "that wasn't you. You weren't _my _Edward then. That was the magic; it twisted and distorted the real you. But I was in complete control of myself, and I still tried to get you to—"

I quickly placed a finger on her lips to silence her. I couldn't hear what she had been about to say; the memories were still too fresh. They thundered in my head like the deafening clash of cymbals, drowning out every other coherent thought. Bella's scent was all over me, stronger than ever. Of course it was. I'd done things tonight that I'd never dared to before.

I couldn't imagine myself having an angel sat on one shoulder; instead, I envisioned a gentleman-Edward, clothed in tails and a top hat, holding a cane. On the other, I pictured a sloppy student-Edward, with messy hair, top button undone on an un-tucked shirt, and a tie loose about his neck. … Possibly a trident in hand.

'_How could you!' cried the gentleman. 'You had no right to touch Bella in such a way! She's a lady. Keep your hands to yourself!'_

'_Oh, can it!' cried the student, batting the gentleman over the head with the trident. 'Edward did nothing wrong. Why should it matter when he and Bella are going to spend their lives together anyway?'_

'_It's a matter of timing!'_

'_Blah! It's a matter of the inevitable! Bella enjoyed it.' Student pointed accusingly at Gentleman. 'She never made those noises with you!'_

'_Why, you little—' The Gentleman brandished his cane, while the mischievous Student thrust forward the trident._

I shook my head, attempting to banish images from my mind of the pair duelling across my collar. If I was honest with myself, I knew that I couldn't supress either facet of my conscience. It was silly to even try. I couldn't tell myself that I didn't want Bella in the same way that my brothers wanted their wives. I couldn't ignore the memories of what I'd done in the classroom, or pretend that I didn't enjoy them. At the same time, however, there something new that I had to consider. Although I had no idea whether my honeymoon with Bella would bring about Renesmee, the research I had carried out with Jasper and Emmett indicated that it was certainly a possibility; and so I couldn't afford to loosen my hold on my control until August.

"Bella, I don't blame you for what happened," I sighed. "In your situation—if I thought that I only had minutes left to spend with you—I probably would have asked the same." I smiled, lifting my hand to stroke her cheek. "Of course, I'm not mad, or disgusted. Quite the opposite actually."

"Really?"

I chuckled at her surprise. Did she think I aspired to be a monk or something? Slowly but surely, a small smile climbed its way onto her face. Soon, however, the memory of my almost killing her resurfaced, and my own smile faltered.

By now, Bella knew me well enough to be able to read the signs of my mood. An annoyed groan broke through her lips. She grabbed at my neck, and pulled herself onto her tiptoes, until her eyes were almost level with mine. "Now, listen here. What. Happened. Tonight. Was. Not. Your. Fault."

I arched an eyebrow as she enunciated each word.

"So you're annoyed that you couldn't fight the effects of the potion. I have news for you: nobody can. To be angry that it affected you … well, that's a vampire's arrogance if ever I saw it."

"A vampire's arrogance?" I repeated, feeling my eyes narrow to slits.

Bella nodded. "All Defence teachers seem to have the same opinion of you lot. Because of your strength and speed, you think you're invincible," she smirked, clearly trying not to laugh, "and so you take greater offense when you realise that's not actually the case."

I tried to protest, but Bella cut me off before I could voice my argument.

"Would you blame someone who had had their drink spiked for anything they did afterward?"

Stubbornly, I held my tongue. Bella, meanwhile, arched her eyebrows, determinedly awaiting my answer.

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is," I argued.

My reply earned me a swat to the chest. "No, it isn't, and you know it!" she insisted, placing her hands on her hips. "You're a classic Rohypnol statistic, only you're blaming yourself when none of this was _your _fault.

"Stop telling yourself that you should've been able to fight the drug. If it had been one of the others—Carlisle, Emmett, or Jasper—they would have forgotten their mates just as easily."

I winced at that. Bella noticed. The sympathy was clear in the set of her mouth.

To say that I had 'forgotten' her during the most recent and highly unpleasant—well, mostly unpleasant—episode of our lives was entirely inaccurate. I had not forgotten Bella. That much had become clear in the classroom. I had still experienced the usual overwhelming desire for her. The love potion could not remove that, rather it acted like an enormous obstruction, like a mountain-sized boulder that was almost impossible to see around.

"The others wouldn't have tried to slaughter someone in that situation," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed that.

Neither did Bella, it seemed. "I doubt that," she murmured ominously, holding my eyes. "Love potion fuels lust and obsession. Who's to say that that type of magic wouldn't have a secondary effect on vampires?"

"Maybe you're right," I shrugged. The witch's lips twitched at the corners. Perhaps she sensed an easy victory. I certainly didn't want to continue this depressing discussion; it was easier to let her convince me that she was right, which was why, instead of continuing with my moping, I wound my arms around her, and pulled her closer.

Bella grinned. "That's more like it."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, before deciding to change the subject. I was massively in need of a distraction. "So tell me more about these Defence classes. What else do you think you know about us vampires?"

**BPOV**

It turned out that Edward got to find out first-hand what the students of Hogwarts learnt about the undead. It was over a month later when he and his siblings were asked to take part in a defence workshop. Talk about the Romilda fiasco soon died. It turned out to be nothing more than another day at Hogwarts. Still, the students regarded the Cullens a bit more warily, having been reminded of their true nature. Romilda Vane avoided us at all costs. She kept her eyes down whenever we were at the table together, and always sat on the opposite side of the common-room.

I had written to Jake since the incident. In his reply, he told me that he and the Wolves had been having a blast with Charlie. Charlie had seen what the pack could do since my trip to the hospital, and now they were all getting on like a house on fire.

'_We bought tickets for Quidditch!' _he'd scribbled excitedly. '_We're heading off to England next month to watch the Falmouth Falcons versus the Tutshill Tornados. I can't wait! Charlie says that you play. This is something I _have _to see, Bella! I just can't imagine it.'_

According to Jake, the pack and my dad would be making the most of their trip across continents. After catching the game, they planned on heading back down the Floo to London. They wanted to do some sight-seeing. I could see it now: Jake and Seth posing next to a palace guard, possibly making fun of his large, furry hat and frozen expression. The thought cracked me up every single time it entered my head.

Edward didn't mind my correspondence with Jacob; he found far too much amusement in hearing about my owl's relationship with the pack. They didn't share an easy friendship. Jacob complained many a time in his letter that Talto had nipped him on numerous occasions. Apparently, now that my feathered pet had finally managed to bond with the Cullens, and had formed a relationship based entirely on trust and friendship, he seemed to find it necessary to demonstrate his loyalty to Edward, and, thus, took every possible opportunity to make Jacob and the Wolves uncomfortable. If it wasn't: _'Bella, your damn bird left worms in my bed', _it was:_ 'Bella, I can't see through my windows! They're covered with faeces!'_

Edward's particular favourite was: _'Damn it, Bella! Your bird stole my underwear! I woke up this morning (naked, I might add) to find that all my pants and boxers had been moved to the roof. The roof! I had to climb up there in a towel! It didn't help that Talto had somehow managed to assemble the neighbors! The pack are never going to let me live it down!'_

Every time he returned, Talto would land on the table at breakfast and perform his victory shuffle. Edward cheered and clapped, along with the other vampires, before proceeding to spoil the owl with an abundance of treats. This, of course, only encouraged Talto to think up more elaborate pranks to perform the next time he visited the Olympic Peninsula, much to Jacob's irritation.

Aside from that, the only other thing of interest was Quidditch. Slytherin won their match against Ravenclaw, which really increased the pressure to do well in the final game. Harry worked the team like never before. For the rest of February and the first few weeks of March, it felt as if I spent every waking hour on the pitch, practicing my pass with Viola and Ginny, and avoiding Bludgers sent at me by Jimmy and Amicus. We practiced moves that I'd never tried before, ones that pushed us to the very peak of airborne coordination and agility. The Coby-Corkscrew was by far the most difficult. Harry wanted Ginny, Viola and me to recreate the quidditch move we had witnessed at the world cup.

_"We need to show them that we're the ones with the skill," _he'd say. That was all well and good, but he wasn't the one sustaining broken bones. In our attempt to perfect the manoeuvre, we managed to break thirteen bones between us, which stirred great concern in Edward and Carlisle. Emmett, on the other hand, grinned like a maniac each time one of us received a new injury, and would flip open his notebook to add another tally to the chart. He said that it was encouraging to know the team would make such sacrifices to secure a victory. In his eyes, the more blood the better.

_"You are worthy, young Swan," he declared one night in the common room, after I returned from the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey had healed my fractured rib. "May the gods of Quidditch look down on you and smile."_

Our practice eventually seemed to pay off. Ginny and I finally managed to spiral Viola as she flew towards the goal hoops without causing injury to her or ourselves. As time went on, we tightened the spiral, until our corkscrew was practically perfect. Executing the move in the actual game would provide the match highlight. Of that, I was confident.

Outside the world of wizarding sport, a sinister calm had settled. The Death Eaters hadn't dared to make a move since their last failed attempt at turning a Ministry official. We didn't get any closer to making a new discovery, despite the Seer's promise, yet Edward stubbornly stuck to his suspicions regarding Iago Callidon, even without evidence.

Alpheus Truman was discharged from St Mungo's the day before the Easter holidays. The Minister for Magic sent word of his condition. Apparently, he was in a much better state of mind. Despite that, he could not remember being confunded, thus making Edward's insistence that Saber was at fault all the more problematic. We couldn't prove anything.

The rest of the Cullens grew tired of Edward's suspicions. No one believed him. I wish I could have said that I had complete faith, but there were too many things that made no sense, like the fact that Saber's scent didn't match the Occlumens' who had attacked me on Halloween. I failed completely to see how he fit into the plot. And we were still no closer to discovering his Imperiused accomplice.

Two villans: one un-Imperiused Occlumens, and one bewitched witch or wizard with no mental shield.

Edward grumbled to himself as we descended the Grand Staircase to the Great Hall. Professor Martin had organised a practical session for the last lesson of the half-term. He was going to teach us how to escape a vampire attack. All N.E.W.T students would be present, including Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper, who had all agreed to assist the professor. It helped that they had a free period last thing on Fridays.

Martin was standing stiffly on the raised platform when we entered, hands by his side, dressed in a navy suit. The tables had been cleared from the room to provide more space for the students to work.

"As you all know," the professor said, once everyone had arrived, "today you will be learning how to escape a vampire attack. As this lesson will involve apparition, Professor McGonagall has removed the anti-apparition spells from the Great Hall and Entrance Hall specifically. Those among you who have yet to earn you license will not take part in the practical. You will record the theory only." Martin then pointed to the benches on either side of the room. "Excluding vampires, everybody take a seat."

After shooting a wary glance at the teacher, I reluctantly pulled away from Edward, and joined my friends. I sat between Harry and Luna, the second of whom was sporting a necklace made of small silver bells laced with thin blue ribbon.

"Nice necklace."

"Oh, thank you, Bella." Luna beamed, stroking the centre bell. I watched curiously as she gave the ribbon a shake, jangling the little instruments. "It's for attracting nogglebotts."

At my blank stare, my friend was kind enough to elaborate.

"A nogglebott is a fairy-like creature with scales and tusks."

"Really? That's … interesting."

"They really are," Luna nodded with a dreamy, far-off gaze. "Daddy's seen them hanging around the wind-chimes. They're attracted to the sounds. Plus, they enjoy the dirigible plums."

"Why do you want to meet one?" Harry pressed, leaning around me to listen to our eccentric peer. He seemed genuinely interested in her odd assertions.

She smiled widely. "Their tusks are coated with a substance that increases intuition. They're very lucky creatures. Daddy is petitioning to have them—"

"Now," called Martin; everyone else in the room fell silent, including Luna, "I am going to demonstrate how to evade a vampire. This procedure is only to be used if you are under direct threat, otherwise, do not draw attention to yourself or your magic."

He then extracted a honey-coloured wand from the inside pocket of his jacket. It wasn't the longest wand I had ever seen, but its simple design hinted at sturdiness. He pointed it at Emmett, who was standing by the large doors with his wife, brothers, and sister. Emmett rubbed his hands in anticipation as the professor took a step down from the platform.

"On the count of three, I want you to run at me."

"Is that it?" My future brother-in-law arched an eyebrow, seeming slightly disappointed. "Aren't we going to duel or something?"

"You don't own a wand."

"Duel as in fight. I attack you; you fight back."

"Why on earth would we do that?" Martin looked genuinely stumped as he frowned back at Emmett.

"Never mind," Emmett muttered, rolling his eyes.

"On the count of three then." I leaned forward in anticipation as Martin resumed his stance, wand held out in front of him, aimed at his un-dead opponent. "One."

Emmett crouched, ready to push off from the ground.

"Two."

I held my breath.

"Three!"

Emmett bolted, his muscles pumping him forwards at dizzying speed. His bear-like roar filled the hall as he surged towards the defence teacher.

_"Protego!"_ cried Martin, shooting a transparent shield through the air. There was a crack like thunder as Emmett collided with the ten by ten foot barrier. Thanks to his perfect balance, he managed to save himself from falling, but didn't have time to react further before his target spun on his heels and disapparated. The pop was followed immediately by a second, the sound appearing to come from the entrance hall. Martin ambled in a moment later, joining the other Cullens by the great doors. They made way for him as he approached. He passed them without a second glance, his eyes instead travelling over the students on either side of the room.

"This method of escape is simple, yet effective," he explained. "A vampire's reflexes are impeccable, but very few know of the existence of our kind. In the event of an attack, a vampire will not expect to be faced with magic. This will give you an advantage. You can use a shield to temporarily stun your opponent, giving you the short amount of time needed to make a quick escape."

Emmett watched the teacher with a look of annoyance. He'd definitely been hoping to play a more active role and show off his skills.

"You will be practicing this in today's lesson. Split yourselves into five groups and form lines. You will take it in turns to shield and disapparate. Make sure you aim for the Entrance Hall." And that was about as much instruction as he gave us. I teamed up with the other Gryffindors, all of whom insisted that I go first, since I was more familiar than anyone with vampire attack.

Edward grinned mischievously from the other side of the hall.

"I'm glad we didn't get Emmett," Seamus whispered to Dean. "We'd have no chance."

"You would have had a better chance with him than Edward," I corrected, without breaking eye contact. "Edward's the fastest."

Behind me, the Irish wizard huffed. "Just my bleedin' luck."

"First challengers step forward!" Martin commanded from the front of the hall. My hand closed around the white yew wand in my pocket, as I left behind my friends. On my left, Ernie McMillan and Bayle Wishart were getting ready to face Alice and Jasper; on my right, Penelope Clearwater and Daphne Greengrass were preparing to take on Rosalie and Emmett.

I chuckled at the sight of the Slytherin team; they didn't seem impressed by the fact that they'd be facing the strongest and meanest looking vampire. He, on the other hand, looked ecstatic.

"On the count of three," said Martin. I braced myself and took my duelling stance. The Cullens assumed their hunting crouch. "One … Two … Three!"

Edward and his siblings sprung forwards, roaring as they pushed off the ground. A high pitched squeal from the right threw my concentration. For one tiny moment, my eyes snapped to Daphne, who looked terrified as a snarling Emmett thundered towards her. When my eyes next landed back on Edward, he was little more than five metres away.

"PROTEGO!" I screamed, ninety percent exhilarated, ten percent terrified. Edward slammed into the barrier, his eyes still fixed on me as he stared through the glassy shield. I stumbled back, my mind suddenly going blank. Only when the determined vampire shot around the edge did I remember that I was supposed to avoid being captured. His hand reached out to grab me, lips pulled up into a devilish smile.

Quickly, I spun into the pressure, the cheers of the students abruptly replaced by the whooshing dark. My eyes were sucked back into my skull for less than a second, before the empty Entrance Hall materialised around me. Crisp Spring light filtered in through the windows, brightening the area. There was no one there, except for me (or so I thought).

Something cold ghosted over my wrist. I whirled with a gasp. Two vibrant emeralds dominated my vision as I stared up into the captivating mien of my amused vampire, who towered over me like the most enchanting alabaster sculpture. Brilliant light glinted off his flawless teeth, propelling my thoughts into a flurry of girlish fantasies. These constant palpitations could not be good for my health, surely.

"I win," he purred.

My head fell forward, thumping against his hard chest. "You caught me."

Edward's melodic laughter rang quietly in my ears. "Only just. I barely had hold of you when you disapparated." His wintery fingers suddenly clutched at my hips, pressing roughly through my robes, and my breathing swiftly progressed from calm inhalations to excited panting. "Still, I win."

"I'll do better next time."

"Then I'll have to run faster."

I frowned. "Why would you do that?"

"Because if I win, I get the prize."

"But you—Mmm." I shivered as Edward ran his tongue along my lower lip. He didn't seem overly concerned with getting back to work. I gathered that from the way he crushed my body to his, and the feverish movement of his hands as they roamed over my ribs.

"Ahem."

I started and stumbled back, my head whipping in the direction of Professor Martin, who was standing in the doorway of the Great Hall, his shoe tapping against the floor. Edward looked on unrepentantly.

"I know _you _can't help yourself, Miss Swan, seeing as you're still a teen and therefore ruled by a copious amount of unruly female hormones." My hands clenched into fist, courtesy of aforementioned 'unruly female hormones'. I was seriously thinking about breaking Martin's nose. "Your companion, unfortunately, does not share that excuse," he droned, voice monotone and expression bored, "and so I will be deducting ten points from Gryffindor. If you would care to rejoin the others …"

Martin stepped aside and waved us into the room. Edward somehow managed to hold onto his composure, the rolling of his eyes the only indication of his thoughts. I, on the other hand, was counting to ten.

The Cullens sniggered as we entered. Alice even winked at me, before turning away to conceal her low giggle. Emmett wagged his eyebrows at Jasper, who frowned and shook his head. Evidently, activity in the Entrance Hall hadn't gone unnoticed.

We soon got back to work. The vampires, it seemed, decided to make a competition of the lesson. Whoever managed to capture the most students would win the game. Very few witches or wizards managed to escape on their first attempt. I think the sight of a charging vampire made it too hard for them to concentrate.

Edward always tried his hardest when I took my turn at evasion. He'd kick off the ground and dive over my blockades, or whip around the edge in his attempt to capture me before I could disapparate. Many times, I'd materialise in the Entrance Hall with the vampire wrapped around me. Whenever that happened, he was never without his satisfied, impish grin.

Alice's total was the best in the end, since she always knew when someone was about to cast their shield. She whizzed down the length of the hall like the world's most nimble missile.

"Good," Martin said with a frown at the end of the lesson. "Most of you seem to have gotten the hang of it." His eyes snapped to me. "Some, not so much."

_Bella, do not bat-bogey hex your teacher. Do not bat-bogey hex your teacher._

"I would advise you to practice this method as much as possible."

"So, on the off chance that we are actually attacked," Seamus voiced suddenly, "you're saying this is pretty much all we can do to protect ourselves?"

"Yes."

The Irish wizard looked about himself in disbelief, exchanging irritated glances with his friends. "There's no offensive manoeuvre then?"

"With all due respect, Mr Finnigan, there is a greater chance of me randomly developing an interest in ballet, donning a tutu, and performing The Nut Cracker for the Queen than there is of you defeating a vampire in combat."

…

…

"So not likely then?"

…

"Indeed." Martin crossed his arms and huffed. "Over Easter, I would like each of you to complete a twenty inch essay on how to defend oneself against vampires. You should discuss a variety of methods, including scent distortion. The deadline is the first Friday after the holidays. Any questions?"

The students mumbled amongst themselves, most complaining about the increase in what was already a strenuous workload.

The professor's frown deepened. "Mr Cullen?"

My head instantly snapped to my right, where Edward was lowering his hand. His jaw was clenched and his pupils small. He looked riled, like a man with a vendetta.

"Forgive me, but … what is scent distortion?"

I distinctly heard Alice sigh to my left.

Professor Martin's eyes narrowed to slits. His lips clenched as he stared down at my vampire fiancé. "I'm not entirely sure that divulging information on how to escape a vampire to a vampire would be ethical."

"This is important," insisted Edward.

"I'm sure it is."

A heavy silence settled throughout the hall, until the tension was so thick that it could have been sliced with a knife. Edward took a step forwards, towards the platform where the teacher stood.

"It's pointless to even try, Wyatt."

Martin didn't react in the slightest at the mention of his name. His brow was furrowed with concentration, as if he was in the process of solving an extremely difficult math problem. The expression was familiar; I'd seen others wear it when they were trying to keep the mind-reader out of their thoughts.

"A potion," Hermione said suddenly. Edward spun to face the girl, his mouth slightly agape. "What?"

"Scent distortion—that's what you want to know, isn't it? It's pretty self-explanatory. There's a specific type of potion that can be used to temporarily alter a human's natural scent. It's only really beneficial though if you're trying to throw a hunter of your trail."

Edward licked his lips, while a sudden sparkle appeared in his eyes. Professor Martin, meanwhile, had had enough. Rather than listen to any further ramblings of his students, he dismissed the class, and quickly departed the scene. The crowds soon dispersed, leaving only the Cullens, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and me behind.

Alice took a careful step towards her brother.

"You're wrong."

"Just stop and think about this for a minute," she hissed. "You're convinced its him—that he somehow managed to trick you."

"He did trick me!"

"Then tell me this—the day you visited the Ministry, after supposedly witnessing Saber confunding Truman, how on earth did your suspect find out that he'd have to change his scent?"

Saber? This was about him?

A heavy sigh sounded in my ears. It took me a few seconds to realise that it had been my own. The others turned, and I suddenly found myself the subject of their gazes. Once again, I wasn't sure I agreed that we had the right man, but as always, I was overwhelmed by an unstoppable urge to support Edward, especially now that he was under fire.

"Maybe someone let slip," I shrugged.

"Who?" challenged Rosalie. "Not McLaggen. He was supervised the whole time, from returning from the field, all the way up until the meeting in the Auror department." She turned to Edward then, and said, "Whether your crazy theory is true or not, we have no way of finding out."

"That's not necessarily correct," Hermione countered, excited now.

"What do mean?" asked a stony-faced Jasper.

"At the moment, all we want to figure out is whether Iago Callidon took a scent-distorting potion, right?"

"Right."

My friend shrugged. "Then the answer is pretty simple, because the potion creates a very distinct smell when ingested."

My chest began to rise and fall with increasing speed. My heart banged frantically in my chest as the topic triggered a surge of dark excitement.

"What smell?" I demanded softly, in a voice barely higher than a whisper.

One word was all it took to propel the Cullens into a frenzy. One simple word was all it took to fan the spark that had been flickering inside Edward into an inferno of determination.

…

"Garlic."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, while the furore exploded around me.

**A/N: Help me reach a thousand reviews! This is my goal for the week! All are appreciated, provided that they are constructive…**

**So it looks like Mr Iago Callidon has something to hide. The question is: how did he know that Edward would be coming for him after the meadow scene? Some of you must have figured it out by now, surely. Giggle. Let me know.**

**Thanks for your continued support. It really spurs me on.**


	28. Revelations

**A/N: Again, sorry for the delay. I appreciate your patience and continued support. My advice: don't go into teaching. I absolutely love it, but the training takes up so much time.**

**! For those of you who can't remember what the hell is going on, here's a brief ****SUMMARY****: The Cullens are trying to uncover the leaks within the Ministry. Edward began to suspect a wizard named Iago Callidon / Saber after he witnessed the man enter Alpheus Truman's home uninvited. Alpheus Truman, an Auror and contender for the role of head Auror, was later discovered to have been placed under a strong Confundus Charm, which affected his general behaviour. When the Cullens confronted Saber, suspecting him to be the wizard that attacked Bella during the masquerade ball on Halloween, they realised his scent didn't match. The attacker had smelled of cinnamon; Saber smelled of lemon grass and garlic. Before the students broke up for Easter in the last chapter, they became aware of a potion which allows humans to distort their natural fragrance. The scent of garlic always surrounds a person who has consumed such a potion.**

**And now, the next chapter …**

**EPOV**

I knew it! I knew it was him! It had been_ him_ from the very beginning, and no one had listened to me. I was irate. Furious. There was no word powerful enough to convey how deeply I desired the death of that poor excuse for a human-being. The insidious low-life didn't deserve the air he breathed.

"Damn it," Emmett growled. In his thoughts, I could hear wave after wave of fresh ire. He hated the fact that another human had succeeded in tricking us, especially after the mess with Romilda Vane. _Again! First an idiot girl, and now this!_

"Are we sure it's him?" Jasper said carefully, conscious of the flurry of tension and anger. My eyes bulged in disbelief, causing my brother to back-track. "Perhaps I should rephrase. Saber is involved; that's a given. But can we be sure he's the masquerade attacker?"

"There's only one way to find out," Emmett sneered. His eyes, though excited, were out of focus, directed at the massive arched window beyond the head-table at the front of the Great Hall. As he rubbed his hands together with anticipation, he imagined battling with the traitorous Auror, taking him down like mountain prey.

Off to the side, Bella stood wide-eyed, her heart pumping wildly like that of a panicked doe. Beside her, Alice wore a glazed expression, watching the future darken into obscurity. I was convinced beyond all doubt that the reason for her sudden blindness was due to the fact that we would all soon be encountering the same house elf that had helped Bella's assailant to escape the castle on Halloween. House elves were another of the many species that blocked my sister's visions.

"What's the plan?" asked Harry, suddenly alert. Did he think he'd be joining in? Did any of the humans? _We'll have to be on our guard. If we can get him on his own though—_

"You're not coming with us," I blurted. A look of defiance subsequently swept the faces of Harry, Ron, and Bella, and I instantly regretted my outburst.

"I second that," said Emmett. Bella practically growled at him, causing a tiny smile to flutter at the edge of his mouth. "Sorry, Bells."

"I thought you of all people would sympathise!"

My brother shrugged. "It'll be seven against one. Eight, even, if you count the Minister. What would be the point in you coming? It's not as if there'll be much for you to do. Besides, you being there would put Edward on edge." Everyone's eyes flashed in my direction. I scowled at Emmett, who seemed to find some amusement in my discomfort. "Not that that would be a massive problem, but I don't think killing the suspect before we have the chance to question him would be the best idea."

The humans exchanged glances as they assessed their options. Ron shrugged, accepting defeat. Harry and Bella appeared less happy, and I could tell by their frowns that they both wanted to protest. Somehow, I needed to find a way to convince the beautiful witch to stay behind. I was concerned that she'd follow us otherwise.

She folded her arms across her chest, quirking an eyebrow at me. The hall was very quiet as I sought for something to say. Save for my family and our closest human allies, it was empty of people. Even the portrait at the front of the room was unoccupied; Dumbledore, as usual, was in the head's office.

"Please, Bella," I murmured. "Stay here. Stay at Hogwarts." _Please. For me._

"No."

"Bella, how do you expect to—"

"I'm not staying here, Edward, and that's that," she argued. "Remember what Chiyoko said?"

The Seer? What did she have to do with anything? I felt my brow furrow with confusion. Bella rolled her eyes.

"She told me not to spend all my time at Hogwarts. Staying here isn't going to help expose the Ministry leaks. We already know who one of them is. There's no reason why I shouldn't go with you."

"Bah!" huffed Alice, flinging her arms into the air. "She's an old fraud, Bella. Nothing more! You should listen to Edward." My sister's eyes flashed around the group. I think she expected everyone to support her, her husband especially. Jasper, surprisingly, was the only one to avoid her gaze. I, like Emmett, kept my face blank. After our meeting with the sphinx, my brothers and I knew that there had been some truth in the Seer's predictions, but did that mean that we really had to follow her instructions to the letter?

"I'm with Bella," Jasper proclaimed, his eyes on my fiancée, resulting in shared smiles of camaraderie. At his words, I threw back my head and groaned, and Alice's mouth fell open with a pop. She gawked at Jasper like he'd just slapped her around the face.

_Oh my god! He actually believes that crap? He does! _

While Jasper could sense his wife's shock and anger, he couldn't figure the precise reason behind it. Before he could stop her, the inky-haired vampire spun on her heels, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and her shoulders slightly hunched as she walked away.

"I'll go tell Carlisle and Esme," she said without a backwards glance.

Jasper was immediately hot on her tail, but he delayed grabbing her until they'd turned into the Entrance Hall, where they would at least be out of sight. The second his fingers closed around her wrist, a new scene blasted into life inside my sister's head. The vision projected itself into my mind like the frames of a movie. I held my breath, hoping for something useful, but the premonition turned out to be completely irrelevant to the greater problem.

_Jasper spun his wife to face him. _I winced at the look he received. Alice and Jasper rarely fought, but when they did, I always feared for the subject of the hyper-death pixie's anger. Rather him than me.

"_What's wrong?"_

"_Nothing!" growled Alice. _

"_Don't give me that. You know I can always tell. I can feel it." Jasper pointed a finger at her shiny, black kitten heels. "On top of that, your Jimmy Choos were making angry sounds."_

"_So you're an expert now on my shoes?" Alice fired back, though her voice was noticeably softer. Jasper really knew how to play her. He smirked and nodded._

"_I've lived with you for long enough, haven't I? I have developed the greatest respect for your shoes, madam." Alice giggled as Jasper took a step closer to her. "As it is, I now consider myself fluent in Choo." Nuzzling his face into the crook of his wife's collar, he pulled her body against his own, and finally murmured, "So … tell me, what's got you all worked up?"_

_My sister nervously bit her lip. "I … I suppose I'm just …"_

"_Frustrated."_

"_Well, of course, you already know."_

_Jasper nodded. "I don't know why though."_

_Alice closed her eyes and sighed, before gently resting her head against her husband's chest. "It frustrates me that I can't see, especially when some human claims to know everything that's going to happen. I feel completely useless, and it doesn't help that, nowadays, everyone seems to trust the judgement of a common fortune-teller over mine." _

_For a moment, Jasper paused, his guarded eyes giving nothing away; then, finally, he smiled, and pressed his lips to his wife's ear. "Alice, how many times have you saved us?" He didn't give her time to answer before he continued. "You are integral to the safety of this family. We would have been long gone before now if it hadn't been for you, and that includes Bella. Of course we trust your judgement. I certainly do … with my life."_

And just like that, the vision fizzled out. It always amazed me how much Alice could see in the space of three seconds. As much as I hated to admit it, I suppose that was the one thing she had in common with Aro: she saw so much in such a short space of time.

Jasper spun his wife to face him. Hostility did not fill her eyes as it had in the vision; wonder had replaced it. Like a speeding bullet, Alice launched herself at the Empath.

"Wha—"

"Oh, Jazz! You always know exactly what to say!"

"But I—" Alice immediately smothered his words with a passionate kiss. Jasper blinked in surprise. When his tiny lover finally pulled back, he shook his head and grinned. "I'll never understand you, woman."

Beside me, Rosalie coughed. "Ahem, can we get back to the matter at hand, please?"

The humans looked around confusedly. They hadn't heard the exchange in the Entrance Hall, so they didn't understand Rosalie's impatience.

"We'll meet you in the office." Alice proclaimed, poking her head around the corner. "Jazz and I will go brief Mom and Dad."

Once they had left, I warily glanced at Bella. Irritation glinted in her eyes as she returned my stare. I felt the familiar sensation of being pulled into her mind as her shield evaporated. _You're mad if you think you can keep me out of this._

I sighed. _Great._

Just as I was about to open my mouth to argue, a brilliant flash of beautiful, silvery light shot around the edge of the door into the Great Hall. The feline patronus was immediately recognisable. I had seen it before. It pounced fluidly through the air, stopping only when it was directly positioned before the eyes of Ron and Ginny.

"Your mother is waiting for you in my office," said the voice of Minerva McGonagall. "Please come immediately. The password is Pride of Portree."

The glowing cat disintegrated suddenly, leaving behind nothing but a torrent of confusion. Ron shared a nervous glance with his sister, and then with Bella. She was very close with the Weasley family, owing to her friendship with Fred and George, who had invited her to their home during the summers of her adolescence. She cared strongly for Mrs Weasley, which was probably why she ended up running after the others at full pelt, leaving me behind with Emmett and Rosalie.

Part of me wanted to chase after her, but I hesitated.

Mrs Weasley's thoughts had been cast into chaos. Her head was a maelstrom of grief, confusion, and utter despair. Through McGonagall's eyes, I saw the woman slumped in a chair against the headmistress' ornate desk. Her eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and her cheekbones stuck out at sharp angles, as if her flesh had been stretched too tightly over the bone. No semblance of colour tinted her skin. Even her hair had lost its vibrancy, now rooted with wisps of grey. The witch had lost her effervescence; it had been sapped away by prolonged adversity, so much so that she seemed in danger of becoming something less than human, a shadow of her former self—a mere wraith.

Emmett threw me an expectant glance, but I wasn't about to explain Mr Weasley's predicament. It wasn't my place for one thing, and secondly, I didn't have time to waste. Here was the perfect opportunity, and I intended to use it.

**BPOV**

My muscles burned as I pushed myself to keep running. The flight up the Grand Staircase from the bottom to the uppermost levels had really worn me out; nevertheless, I continued on, ignoring the fire in my protesting limbs. Finally, we pulled to a stop before the office guard. I had to grip my knees while my exhausted lungs captured sufficient oxygen.

When Ron resentfully wheezed out the password, looking as if he'd been force-fed something particularly disgusting (like a mould-flavoured Berty Botts Bean), I snorted on reflex. Pride of Portree? Really? I couldn't say that I was impressed with the headmistress' Quidditch team of choice. On the other hand, I suppose it wasn't such a surprise that a woman with Scottish ancestry would lend her support to a Scottish team. Still, I minded.

Mrs Weasley looked a wreck when we barrelled into the office. Ginny was the first to run to the crying witch, and was followed shortly by Hermione and myself. Ron patted his mother on the shoulder, while Harry kept a careful distance, wearing a frown formed of both sympathy and concern. Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, looked slightly disgruntled, her hard green eyes flashing with disapproval as they moved over Harry, Hermione and me. I suddenly remembered that we hadn't been invited.

"What's wrong, Mum?" asked Ginny. Mrs Weasley sobbed against her shoulder, before withdrawing slightly to blow her nose into a lilac handkerchief.

"It's y-y-your father," she wept. "L-last night he—he left the h-house, but he d-didn't come home. He's not been right for a l-long time. It's all this trouble at the Ministry. H-he can't take it anymore."

I barely registered the fact that I was gnawing at my lower lip. I forced myself to stop when I caught the faint scent of blood. In my nervousness, I'd grazed my teeth over the delicate skin so much that they felt raw. Not great when you spend half your time making out with a vampire.

Together, my human friends and I stood in silence. No one knew precisely what to say, but the atmosphere hummed with our quiet alarm. Hermione shuffled uncomfortably, and reached out to entwine her fingers with Ron's. His jaw was tight, and the pulse above his temple was visible as it throbbed with the force of his anger. He didn't blame his father; he was just frustrated by the situation in general. Like the rest of us, he was fully aware that the Death Eaters were the root of every bad thing that had happened to his family over the course of the past year.

"Professor," he said, maintaining a calm façade, "may I have permission to leave the school?"

The headmistress responded with a quick nod. "As it so happens, I was about to suggest that you and your sister return to the Burrow with your mother. If your father is still in the area, we will locate him sooner with more people in the search party."

"We?"

"Yes, we. I too will assist the search." McGonagall's announcement was met by a relieved sniffle from the sobbing Mrs Weasley. She had a point—the more the better—and, really, what else was I going to do? As much as I wanted to join the Cullens in beating Saber, the garlic-reeking fraud, to a bloody pulp, I knew in my heart that they didn't need my help to take him down. Seven vampires against one unsuspecting wizard was a sure thing. He didn't stand a chance. The Weasleys, on the other hand, needed all the support they could get.

My hand fell away from Molly's shoulder as I took a step towards the headmistress, determinedly squaring myself. She quirked an eyebrow at me as I held her sober gaze.

"Miss Swan?"

"I'm coming too." I hadn't expected her to grant instant permission, being the stickler for policy and regulation that she normally was. On this occasion, however, her mouth twitched at the corners, and she nodded her assent.

"Of course."

Harry and Hermione followed my lead, similarly pledging to aid the search for the missing Arthur Weasley.

"Don't look so astounded, Miss Swan," McGonagall quipped when I continued to gaze at her with a surprised countenance. "You're an adult, are you not? You can do as you please, and I have no interest in denying you leave of Hogwarts when your intentions match my own." She rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. "That would be counter-productive."

The witch looked completely unperturbed when the door to her office suddenly swung open, the portraits rattling against the walls as a parade of teachers made their way over the threshold. Madam Hooch led the way, garbed in a billowing emerald cape, her hawk-like eyes twinkling with anticipation behind a pair of large transparent goggles. Like many of the others, she proudly gripped her broom, awaiting McGonagall's command.

"Good, you're all here. Sibyl?"

"Yes, Minerva?" answered the neurotic Divinations teacher.

"I would like it if you would stay behind with Firenze. We can't leave the castle unmanned, regardless of the current situation."

"Of course, Headmistress."

"The rest of you will accompany me to the Burrow. Together, we will scour Ottery St. Catchpole and the surrounding area for traces of Mr Weasley. If any of you find a possible clue during the hunt, send up a flare to inform the rest of us of your whereabouts. Now, remember that there will be Muggle residents nearby. Keep low to avoid being seen. The last thing we need right now is unnecessary attention."

A mixture of anxiety and anticipation hung in the atmosphere as the alert staff absorbed Professor McGonagall's strict instructions. Authority rang in her every word, and it was visible in her strong posture and the stubborn set of her jaw. She truly was an imposing woman.

"Any questions?" she said finally. The teachers all shook their heads. Almost every member of staff in Hogwarts' employ was there at the ready: Professor Fulplume stood beside the severe Defence teacher, Professor Martin. The latter held a broom, but I already knew that the transfiguration teacher didn't need such instruments to assist her in taking to the skies. Hagrid stood to their left, holding the leash to his slobbering bloodhound, Fang, who sat panting on the floor, showering it with spittle, much to the distaste of a scowling Phineas Nigellus. Also present were Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Professor Babbling of Ancient Runes, Professor Sinstra of Astronomy, Professor Slughorn, and Professor Vector of Arithmancy.

I wasn't really surprised that McGonagall was willing to go to such lengths to locate Weasley. As a member of The Order of the Phoenix, he had demonstrated the utmost loyalty to the battle against dark wizards. That, combined with his strong compassion for Muggles, had naturally earned him the respect of those witches and wizards who had rejected Voldemort's abominable vision—a vision that would have plunged members of the non-magical community into slavery if the tyrant survived long enough to enforce it.

And so, with a purposeful resolve, the occupants of the room moved towards the headmistress' fireplace, forming an orderly queue as each awaited their turn to step into the Floo. Mrs Weasley appeared slightly more hopeful as her watery eyes scanned the line of people that had come to support her family.

I, meanwhile, decided to send a message to my vampire fiancé, but I had a hunch that dropping my shield to do so would be of no use whatsoever. He hadn't followed me and my friends up to the office, and if I knew Edward, he would have taken the distraction provided by the current crisis to escape the castle without me.

_What if I'm wrong?_ I thought suddenly. _What if something happens to him during his mission?_ The first sparks of panic flashed to life within me, and my heartbeat rapidly accelerated.

"Bella?" probed Hermione as I hesitated in front of the fireplace. Harry had just disappeared before my eyes, swallowed by the green flames. I was next in line, but found myself hastily stepping aside, before I turning to face my friend, who was staring at me with her eyebrows raised.

"There's something I need to do first. You go on ahead. I'll join you as soon as I can." And with that, I hurtled from the office, leaving the others behind to splutter their protests.

It didn't take me long to reach my dormitory. Rays of buttery sunshine filtered in through the window, glinting off the instrument positioned on my bedside table. I marched towards the spying-mirror and immediately snatched it up. I was supposed to carry it with me wherever I went, but Edward and I were together so frequently during term-time that it was only really useful at night, at which time I was forced to retreat to my dormitory, a place that was strictly off limits to the males. In Forks, Edward had grown so used to watching me sleep that despite his understanding and acceptance of the rules, he constantly harboured a strong resentment for them. The spy-band, therefore, provided an almost-perfect solution to that problem.

"Engorgio," I said, pointing my wand at the mirror. The little, silver device expand instantly in my palm. After tucking the yew wand back into my pocket, I gripped the mirror with both hands and stared into the glass. "Edward?"

It was only a moment before I received a response. Edward's face quickly came into view as he opened the spy-band.

"Bella, are you alright?" he questioned in a hurry, alarmed by my call. I smiled and nodded, pleased when the panic drained from his countenance.

"I'm absolutely fine. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to the Burrow to help the others look for Mr Weasley."

Edward nodded. "Alice said as much. We're at the Ministry. We've filled the Minister in. He and Brone are coming with us to accost Saber. We're just about to head off."

"Well, if you need anything, let me know, ok?"

At my words, a tender smile crept onto the vampire's face. Over his shoulder, I glimpsed Emmett, who was shifting impatiently from foot to foot.

"Bro, can we go already? I'm dying for some action!" Somehow, I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

"I'll see you later," I said quickly. "Be careful."

"And you," nodded Edward. In a hurry, he told me he loved me, to which I replied the same, and then the discourse came to a close as he flipped the metallic cover closed, leaving me with the image of my own reflection. After shrinking it back to its normal size, I slipped the mirror into my pocket, and sped away, out of the dormitory.

My journey back to McGonagall's office was interrupted by Viola and Amicus, who apprehended me in the common room, desperate to share their tale of a prank they had recently pulled on a snotty fifth-year Slytherin. It was with great regret that I informed them the valiant account would have to wait. That, of course, immediately put them on full alert. What kind of Gryffindor would pass up the opportunity to listen to such a story?

"There must be some trouble," Amicus told Viola as they followed me up the staircase. "What's up, Bella?"

"Nothing that concerns you," I answered defensively, not wanting to involve my young team-mates. Despite my efforts, they followed me all the way up to the seventh floor, stopping only when they realised my affairs would take me beyond the stone gargoyle guarding McGonagall's office. I breathed a sigh of relief as I left them behind, glad that I hadn't been forced to use magic against my friends.

The office was empty of people when I entered the second time. They had all vanished into the Floo, and would already be commencing their search for Mr Weasley. Without a second's hesitation, I reached for the golden pot positioned on the oak mantelpiece, which held the emerald powder.

The office and all its glinting instruments shrunk from view as I was suddenly catapulted backwards into the rainbow vortex. It didn't take long to reach the Weasley's home; I arrived in a matter of seconds, and stumbled out into a deserted living room, slightly disoriented and covered from head to toe in soot. I could even taste it on my tongue, and felt it at the back of my throat. Beneath the dirty flavour was a metallic sharpness. I coughed in an attempt to clear my airways, before using my wand to siphon off the soot smearing my face.

"Guess I used too much," I said to no-one in particular.

The room, as always, was shabby, but the tatty old furniture was perfectly complemented by Mrs Weasley's eclectic style and love of warm colours. The obvious cosiness increased my reluctance to leave, and as a result of persistent lingering, I was suddenly hit with a surge of pleasant recollections. There in the Weasley family home, my memories of the twins were clearer than ever. On one of the couch's arms was a patch of scorched fabric where Percy had accidentally knocked over an oil lamp after lunging at Fred and George. Back when Wizard Wheezes was just a dream, the twins had spent the duration of the summer holidays using their unwilling brother as a guinea-pig for various inventions. Unbeknownst to Percy, they'd sneakily placed a magically camouflaged whoopie-cushion on his favourite chair, so when the unsuspecting wizard finally sat down, the room echoed with the disgusting sound of an amplified fart. Unfortunately for Percy, his urchin brothers were very, very thorough, and had lined the insides of the cushion with dung powder. After turning a nasty shade of puce, their embarrassed victim pounced across the room with the intention of throttling the gruesome twosome. Mrs Weasley subsequently banished her sons to their lair, where we spent the next half hour rolling on the floor, howling like a pack of wolves.

The old grandfather clock quickly put an end to reminiscence. Its hands provided an astringent reminder of the current crisis. Power buckled in my thighs as I turned and bolted for the door. I barely made it over the threshold before the lioness ripped her way to the surface, excited by the natural instinct to protect. I could only hope that Mr Weasley's hand wouldn't be pointing to 'lost' for long.

**Lioness POV**

Scents everywhere. So many: lush, clean, putrid and sweet. Breathed in and there it was: fresh grass, river water, pollen, algae, moss and flesh. Mouth-watering flesh. Bloody. Alive.

In the sky, a long way off, people were flying like big tasty birds. Gorge was amongst them. Could see every detail of his face—one of the perks of animal vision. Hagrid was trudging north with Fang. Would it be wrong to eat dog—cat's natural enemy? Surely not. My insides grumbled loudly.

_Yes, I know._

Hungry and grumpy, I padded over to a nearby shed and gave the door a good sniff, then licked it for good measure. Oaky flavours with the hint of person. Like a nice wine. Nudged the door with my forehead, but it wouldn't budged. Looked down at my paws, and resented the fact that I didn't have thumbs. Angry now, crashed against the brittle wood. Turns out brittle wood and rusty hinges don't like four hundred pounds worth of big cat.

The door flew open to more scents. Acrid smells assaulted my senses: chemicals, metal and wood. Beneath that was something much sweeter—the same smell from the door. Sharper though. Preserved by the shelter of the shed, shielded from weathering.

Mr Weasley.

I liked the way he smelt. Really liked it. He was everywhere—on every gadget and every surface. Licking my lips, I turned back to the door.

_Find Mr Weasley. Mustn't eat him though, even if he does smell tasty. Save him. Yes._

Picked up a trail not far beyond the front gate. Faint, but impossible to doubt. Followed it for a minute or so, just to make sure I had the right direction, then burst north towards the woods, through wild grasses, pouncing over nettles. Faster and faster I went, gaining speed every second, cooling wind whipping at my face, my limbs, my heaving body. Fang yelped as I overtook, and Hagrid jumped.

"Blimey, Bella! Yer tryin' to give me a heart-attack?" His voice got smaller as I surged on ahead. Probably a good thing he couldn't keep up. I intimidate Fang.

Stopped abruptly at the woodland edge. Cautiously scanned the area for signs of danger, but only caught sight of wriggling insects, wary birds and hopping mammals. Contemplated eating a squirrel at one point, but decided against it. Tree rats probably don't make good meals.

The smell from before was still present—Mr Weasley had been here. Could find no reason to prevent my hunt, and so I continued on, careful of sharp branches and underbrush, but still keeping to a productive pace—about fifteen miles per hour. Could have done double that, but didn't want to burn myself out.

Stopped by a shallow pond for a drink after seven miles. I'd been running for an hour, and my mouth was like a sauna, hot and dry. Aside from that, felt pretty good. Better than good. Alive. Strong. Exhilarated. Once or twice, I thought I heard Edward's voice. In fact, I was sure of it. Wasn't sure what that meant, but liked it. My tail swung from side to side.

_Yes, like his voice. Nice._

Listened to it while I drank. The pond water was stagnant, but cool. Invigorating even. Made me want to press on. Bounded eagerly from the bank back to the trail, ready to hunt again.

All of a sudden, I inhaled something lovely. A roar ripped from my chest as I rushed forwards, excited by the smell. Blood! Delicious, tempting blood! My stomach—my great rumbling belly—was empty. Needed meat. Could smell meat. All for me.

Flew like lightning through the forest, wild and crazed.

—For one moment, the human in me rushed to the forefront of my mind. I felt my intelligence return with full force, not long enough to allow a return transformation of course, but I certainly remembered that it would be inexcusable to eat Mr Weasley. He was not filet mignon, and I was not a murderer. I was a witch on a mission—a mission to find the father of beloved friends. People were depending on me. If I lost it … but that wasn't worth thinking about.

The lioness took the front seat once again, with the renewed desire to find and rescue.—

Stopped at the foot of a craggy incline winding up through the trees. Spotted a red stain on the sharp edge of a large slab a few feet up. Bent my head to inhale. Definitely Mr Weasley. He must have tripped. Studied the rocky slope a few seconds longer. Why bother? Seven miles from home and still going. But going where?

Pushed off the ground, muscles propelling me higher and higher. Three things had me running faster than ever: vexation—not knowing does that—concern for Mr Weasley, and impatience for dinner. Had to find him. Had to find him soon! That or starve.

Fifteen miles per hour to twenty, twenty miles per hour to twenty-five, then thirty. Scents in my nose, leading the way, roots of trees disappearing beneath me, trees passing by in a blur. Faster and faster, mile after mile!

Couldn't tell how far I'd gone when the scent exploded, ripping through my head. Everything came into sharper focus. Scents. Sights. Sounds. Could hear my own heartbeat, pulsing. Thudding.

A quarry. Dusty. Hazordous …

My senses told me that Mr Weasley was nearby. The scent was fresh. He'd been here a while. Hairs on end, I edged deeper into the pit, past boulders and a steep cliff face. Looked ahead, and saw limbs. Chew toys.

_No. Limbs._

I could hear breathing. He was alive.

**BPOV**

Alerted by my find, I jumped back into human form. Mr Weasley was flailed out on the floor like a rag doll, his legs poking out from behind a dusty mound.

I sprinted forwards as fast as my limited human muscles could carry me, throwing myself to the ground upon reaching the unconscious wizard. After carrying out a quick inventory, I surmised that Mr Weasley would be fine once he'd had a drink and a good meal. His knee was bloody from where he'd bashed it on the rocks, and by the looks of his lips, I guessed that he was slightly dehydrated. Other than a few superficial scrapes, there was nothing else wrong with him.

Speedily extracting my wand, I conjured a goblet and scooped fresh water from the nearby stream. While supporting Mr Weasley's head, I carefully poured the liquid into his mouth.

"Mr Weasley?" I said gently. "Can you hear me? It's Bella … Mr Weasley?"

When seconds had passed and I'd received no response, I hastily pointed my wand up towards the sky. A violent red flare burst into the air, leaving an angry scar against the blue. Hopefully, someone would see it and alert the others.

Now that I knew Mr Weasely was safe, I sank into quiet reflection. What on earth could motivated an ostensibly sensible man to leave his family without warning—to trek into the wilderness with only a small supply of food and a cell phone? After searching the backpack which had been carelessly tossed to one side, I realised that Mr Weasley had left home with no intention of a quick return. No one wanders away with more than five tins of beans and a loaf of bread if they plan on being back before dusk; and so I had to wonder … what could possibly motivate such an excursion?

"Bella?" The backpack slipped from my hands, and I spun. Sure enough, the man was sitting, his bloodshot eyes aimed at my face.

"Sir?"

The wizard scanned his surroundings. He almost looked surprised to be there. Finally, his eyes found mine again. Something about the way he stared at me made me uncomfortable, causing me to avert my gaze. Mr Weasely's hand twitched towards his mobile. I suppressed a chuckle. Perhaps he was afraid that he'd lost it; but, really, who exactly would a wizard call? Telecommunications weren't exactly big in the magical world.

"W-what are you doing here?" he demanded. I flinched at the anger in his voice. "You shouldn't be here!"

"I—"

"Get away!" he cried, springing to his feet. Instinctively, I stumbled back. The man looked crazed. His eyes were wild, and his mouth was twisted into a livid snarl. Without another word, he bent down to snatch up his silver flip-phone, handling it in what could only be described as a loving, possessive manner.

The wizard suddenly turned away from me, his attention now riveted to the phone. I, meanwhile, nervously gripped my wand. While he continued to caress the small, rectangular buttons, I took the opportunity to survey the area in greater detail.

I was standing in a narrow alley formed by two opposing cliff faces. A stream—barely more than a trickle of water—ran directly along the centre. A little further ahead, the path was interrupted by a collection of boulders and shattered rock. Although I had never been here before, my nerves prickled with sudden awareness.

"This is where Harry and Ron were both injured, isn't it?" I realised aloud. I turned back to face Mr Weasley, who stared back at me with dead eyes.

"Yes." And then he lifted his wand. A throbbing pain between my eyes was the last thing I felt before I blacked out.

**EPOV**

I fastened the clasp of the spy-band with a mild sense of relief. Bella was heading off to The Burrow to look for Mr Weasley. Although I wouldn't be wholly unsurprised if she returned from her search with a few scrapes and bruises, I couldn't see her getting into much trouble in the British countryside, far away from the threat of Death Eaters.

_Are you ready now? _Emmett whined, like an impatient infant. _I need some violence, Edward, before I die of boredom!_

"Alright!" I snapped. "I'm ready!"

"Easy, tiger," Brone said roughly. I turned to face the Auror, who was standing alongside the Minister. The first was garbed in dark robes and black leather boots, while the latter indicated a preference for much brighter colours. Kingsley wore robes of royal purple, combined with smart shoes of the finest brown leather, and an emerald cape. Alice eyed his ensemble with a look of mild irritation. As far as my sister was concerned, Muggle couture was far superior to the fashion of witches and wizards, though she reserved a special place in her heart for the spider-silk dress that had come with the magical tent we'd purchased at _Cotton and Tweed._

In her mind, I watched her vision drift out of focus as a sudden image flared to life. It only lasted for a second or so, but it brought a smile to my face nonetheless.

"Bella's just morphed," my sister cheerfully announced. "She's about to locate a trail which will lead her to Mr Weasley. He's sixteen miles from The Burrow. She should find him in two and a quarter hours."

Emmett chuckled and nudged me in the ribs. "A right little hunter she's turning out to be, eh, Edward?"

I would've agreed with him, had it not been for the scowl that suddenly overtook Brone's countenance. Despite the slow-mounting gratitude he felt for my family—a product of recent revelations—he still despised the idea of a human suffering the bite of a vampire, regardless of the motive. His eyes met mine, and though I couldn't read his mind, his distaste was evident; still, he forced himself not to say anything. That must have taken some effort, considering the strength of his beliefs.

"Bella Swan is a good girl," the Minister nodded, pulling me back to the present conversation. The ensuing smile that spread across his face was so warm and sincere that it triggered a natural burst of pride, one that possessed all ferocity and intensity of a steaming hot geyser.

"In every respect."

_Indeed._

As much as there was to say about my fiancée, there was also the pressing issue of the traitorous Ministry worker. Iago Callidon, also known as Saber by his colleagues, was not due to finish work until five o'clock. It was currently three o'clock, which left us a good two hours to subdue his house-elf, who we suspected would be waiting for him at home.

Because it was not possible to apparate in and out of the Ministry, owing to security reasons, first we used the Minister's personal fireplace, which was only used under urgent circumstances, leaving the impressive office behind and travelling by the Floo network to Brone's London apartment. From what I saw of it, it was very small, clean, and completely unembellished. We didn't linger there, instead apparating straight to our intended destination.

We materialised on a long country lane, which wound upwards into dense woodland, before eventually disappearing out of sight. Half way up the road, set against the green hillside, was an old Victorian house constructed of blackened stone and blue slate. Wiry vines with blood-red leaves covered the front; some had even reached the roof, seeming to strangle the chimney. All in all, it was a very sinister building.

We hid in the trees while my family and I listened for signs of life. The humans waited in complete silence for the signal, trusting our judgement. Aside from a peculiar buzzing and a quick, repetitive thudding sound, which I took to be the mind and heartbeat of Saber's house-elf, there was nothing to indicate a possible threat. I nodded to Kingsley, who subsequently followed me and my family out into the open, Brone not far behind him.

"The elf is on the ground floor," I mouthed to them. "At the back of the house."

Together, we slinked around the side until we reached the back porch. The garden was dominated by an enormous willow tree. The grass was untamed, and weeds were creeping up through the cracks in the path.

Carefully, so as to avoid detection, the Minister crept towards the open bay window. Gentle humming could be heard from inside; by the sounds of it, the elf was female. She must have been preparing dinner for the master, for the scent of pork, vegetables, and Yorkshire Puddings wafted out into the open air. Rhubarb crumble and custard followed it. My nose wrinkled with disgust. To a human, I'm sure the meal would have smelled divine. Kingsley and Brone were practically salivating by the window, hypnotised by the odour.

Another aroma poured out into the open air, and instantly I was rigid. I had to press my fists against my sides to keep myself from punching a hole through the stone wall. The house-elf's scent confirmed our suspicions. It was the same one I'd encountered on Halloween—the same one that had helped Bella's assailant to escape.

"We were right," I hissed softly through clenched teeth.

With grim resignation, Brone nodded in acknowledgement. His eyes flicked upwards and his body tensed; then, like a striking cobra, he pounced from his crouched position beneath the window.

"Stupefy!"

There was a sudden dull thud and the harsh sound of shattering china. When I rose to my feet, I saw the unconscious house-elf slumped against a rosewood counter, surrounded by the fragments of broken crockery, her arms dangling limply by her sides.

"Nice," said Kingsley, who proceeded to let himself in through the back door. Brone grunted in answer, before following him inside.

Initially I'd thought that I would loath Saber's accomplice, but I realised that wasn't the case as soon as I saw the big blue shiner she'd received to her left eye. Her rags were clean for the most part, save for a few cooking stains, but the rest of her appearance screamed neglect and abuse. She was as thin as a rake, and covered from head to toe with bruises.

Carlisle's caring instincts kicked in immediately. He dashed forwards to scoop up the feeble creature, before laying her carefully on the counter top.

"What will happen to her?" Rosalie seethed. Abuse, no matter what the species, always affected her in the most violent way.

"She'll be taken to St Mungo's to recover. After Saber is charged, he'll automatically forefeit the right to an elf," said Brone.

"So she won't be able to help him escape?"

"No. The orders of an elf's master are of the highest law, but Saber's authority will break the moment we charge him. After what he's done to her, I doubt his elf will want to help him, but even if she does, it'll be out of her power to do so."

_Good, _I thought. _He deserves to rot._

We quickly agreed that Kingsley would take Carlisle and the elf to St Mungo's by side-along apparition. Esme decided to go them, leaving the rest of us behind to await the villain's arrival. We stood in silence while we waited for the Minister to return. The kitchen was spacious, and despite the large windows, through which streamed strong rays of light, the teal baroque wallpaper, coupled with the rich tones of the wooden counters, darkened the space considerably. Kingsley arrived just as I was inspecting an oil painting of a great Siberian tiger, with eyes burning brightly in the forest of the night.

"We should wait outside," said Jasper. "We don't want to be here when Saber gets back." Following my brother's suggestion, it was unanimously agreed that we should retreat to the shelter of the trees. Despite Alice's visions, none of us were willing to remain in the house on the odd chance that Saber would catch us by surprise. It needed to be the other way around.

The humans lowered themselves to the ground. Luckily, the earth was dry. Brone had little to say, but the Minister was surprisingly cheerful and inquisitive. He chatted with Emmett and Jasper about Quidditch, and enquired after the girls' plans for the summer.

Propped against the trunk of a large ash, I flipped open the spy-band's cover. With Bella in her animal form, I hadn't expected that I'd be able to see anything; again, I'd been wrong. I had a view of a mossy forest. One by one, the trees whizzed by, as did the fauna—mice and hedgehogs cowering in their nests.

"Unbelievable," Jasper murmured, peeping over my shoulder. "Is that Bella?"

I nodded. "She merged with the mirror. It's like I'm seeing everything through her eyes."

"For once," chuckled Alice, who smiled appreciatively at the view. "That girl is seriously awesome."

_Impressive, _Kingsley agreed, similarly peering into the mirror. "You know, Edward … your girlfriend has a bit of a rep." _The notorious Bella Swan._

"I'm aware of it, I assure you." I watched with rapt attention as one scene after another unfolded itself like complex origami in the Minister's imagination.

"Technically, I shouldn't condone bad behaviour, but when it's in protest of Dolores Umbridge, who can argue?"

"Here, here," said Brone, after shuddering at the mere mention of the cruel witch's name.

"Always enjoyed hearing about her antics with the Weasleys back in the day. Fudge tried to hush it up—"

"Aye," interrupted the Auror, "but the tales always managed to make their way along the grapevine regardless. Not surprising when you consider how many Ministry workers have relatives at Hogwarts."

"That's right," said Kingsley, "and there wasn't a decent witch or wizard among us who wasn't cheering them on." He gave Brone a quick nudge then, and said, "Remember the time they snuck into Umbridge's office and filled all her panties with baby Blast-Ended Skrewts?"

A chorus of snorts and guffaws were the result of the Minister's question. Brone, on the other hand, issued a fake gag. "Please do not mention panties and Umbridge in the same sentence. I had fish pie for dinner, Kingsley. Don't blame me when it ends up in your lap!" After a while, however, even the austere wizard couldn't hold back a smile. "That silly bat. She didn't even check her knickers before she put 'em on. Deserved everything she got, as far as I'm concerned."

Kingsley barked out a laugh. "Is that something you do regularly—check your underwear?"

"Maybe not before that, but ever since. Saves me a burnt arse and a nip to the privates."

After another hearty laugh, Kingsley turned away from his friend and back to me instead. "It's probably a good thing you plan on making an honest woman of Bella Swan. Honestly, I think most human men are too afraid of her."

That was how the conversation went for the next two hours—Kingsley encouraging light chit-chat in an attempt to ease the tension. At exactly quarter past five, however, the bubble burst with a literal pop. I shot forth into my hunting crouch with my siblings, my teeth bared for a fight. The abruptness of our primal behaviour provided sufficient warning for the wizards, who were immediately on their guard, thrust into similar states of alertness, their vigilant eyes cast in the direction of the house.

Through the back window, I watch Saber saunter into the kitchen. All of a sudden, he stopped dead and the smug smile he wore dropped from his face.

"DAMN IT, TINKA! I thought I told you to have dinner ready by the time I got back!" _You'd think she'd learn after the last time._

He stomped over to the stove, where the vegetables continued to soak. To prevent the water from bubbling over, or the house from burning to the ground, Alice had removed the heat after Brone stunned the house-elf, and Jasper had removed the shards of broken china to prevent Saber's immediate wariness. The dark wizard continued to rave and curse. We had to do it now, or Tinka's absence would begin to trigger suspicion.

Before Saber had time to react, I was crashing against him. The kitchen door collided with the wall, smashed off its hinges. With loud, vicious snarls, my brothers and sisters followed my lead, and in less than a second the wizard was completely surrounded, pinned against the wall by the neck, my teeth an inch from his face. When he moved to snatch his wand from his pocket, my fingers curled around his wrist, and I squeezed until his bones snapped. I felt no remorse at the sound of his agony. Desperate screams filled the room as his weapon dropped to the floor. I kicked it away, and Kingsley shot forwards to pick it up.

"Don't bother calling for your elf," I sneered. "She's unconscious."

The veins beneath the wizard's skin bulged as I increased the pressure on his neck, my hand contracting like a vice. The more asphyxiated he became, the more his eyes watered.

"Your face is all red, Saber. Let's see how long it takes for you to turn purple. One. Two. Three—"

"Edward," Alice interrupted. In my head, I continued to count. "As much as I'm enjoying watching you torture Mr Callidon, don't you think we should get down to business? He won't be able to tell us where to find the Death Eaters if he passes out."

_She does have a point,_ Emmett concurred. Their logic was fair, but that didn't lessen my resentment; and so it was with reluctance that I loosened my grip on Saber's windpipe. He gasped as the air rushed into his lungs, and continued to do so until his skin returned to a more natural shade.

"No trace of garlic now," Rosalie smirked, turning to her husband. "Told you there was no such thing as man smell." Sure enough, without the scent-distorting potion he had used to pollute his usual aroma, Bella's attacker had regained a more organic fragrance. His cinnamon scent was an exact match to that of the Halloween attacker. When Jasper assured the Minister of this, he extracted a vial from his pocket, unstopped it, and moved forwards to pour it down our captive's throat. Saber tried to resist the Veritaserum, but quickly complied after I gave his broken wrist a good shake.

"Firstly, tell us how long you've been a Death Eaters," Kingsley ordered.

Saber answered with mechanical stiffness, his voice locked in monotone. "I became a Death Eater when Pius Thicknesse became the Minister for Magic."

"Bah!" spat Brone. "No wonder we had no luck finding them during the war. He's been feeding them intel for over a year!"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Kingsley said ominously. "We know from Karkaroff that Rookwood passed information to Voldemort when he worked for the Department of Mysteries during the first war. That's how they knew about the prophecy."

"Indeed! And it looks like the Auror office was their next priority, isn't that right, Saber?"

"Yes," the wizard answered with dead eyes.

"So what? What was the overall aim, eh?"

"The aim was to take control of the department. After the death of the Dark Lord, I wasn't stupid enough to trade in a job at the Ministry for a life as a fugitive. It was out of loyalty that I agreed to continue passing information as an undercover agent. I intended to take up the role of Head Auror as soon as the job was offered to me—"

"Which is why you tried to make Alpheus Truman look like a blithering idiot," the Irish wizard accused, "because you wanted to convince the Minister that your rival wasn't fit for the job!"

"Yes. Bringing the Auror Office under Death Eater control could only prove advantageous to our security."

God, I hated this man. Good witches had wizards had been slaughtered because he'd been wicked enough to inform his evil friends of impending Auror attacks. How I managed not to kill him, I will never understand.

"Where are the Death Eaters now?" I demanded.

"The current head-quarters of the Death Eaters is a subterranean chamber beneath Winchester Cathedral. Rookwood placed the Imperius Curse on the bishop, who then closed the crypt off to the public."

Silence met the latest admission. My revulsion at this latest admission was overpowering. It hit me like a punch to the gut, and judging by the sight of Jasper, who looked like he'd just been offered a rotten egg for dinner, that feeling was shared by everyone.

"A crypt!" snapped an incredulous Rosalie. "That's just sick!"

"Agreed," said Brone. "No friggin' respect! I am seriously going to enjoy locking you up, Callidon."

Kingsley nodded. "Indeed, but before we do that, I have one more question." This was the moment I'd been waiting for. Like simmering acid, the anticipation was eating away at me. "Who else is working for the Death Eaters? We already know that there are at least two of you."

Saber succeeded in holding the Minister's severe stare, but his anxiety was betrayed by a sudden twitch. His right arm jerked at his side, hovering by his side pocket. "There's one," he said finally. "One other. Avery chose him…"

"Who?" I demanded.

Once again, Saber's arm jerked. Thinking he was about to pull a weapon of some kind from his robes, I slammed him hard against the wall, growling with fury. Upon my instruction, Emmett advanced to search the man. After patting him down, he extracted something I really hadn't been expecting—something small, shiny and rectangular: a cell phone.

_What the … _Emmett's mouth dropped open with a pop, and he suddenly stopped breathing. My eyes jumped to my brother, then back to the phone. When I looked once more into the face of the behemoth vampire, all the horror of his imagination was visible in his wide, blue eyes. _Oh no._

And then I was the one that couldn't breathe. Brutal fear forced the air from my lungs in the same moment that my strength failed. Saber dropped to the floor as my arms fell limply to my sides.

Security and ease and everything good in the world melted into pain and terror the second that bloodcurdling scream assaulted my ears.

_Bella, bloody and beaten, writhed on the dusty earth, her delicate frame arching with pain. Rodolphus Lestrange hovered over her, pointing his wand, a sadistic sneer warping his features. Behind him were his degenerate comrades, who jeered and shouted words of encouragement: Rookwood, Selwyn, Dolohov, Crabbe, Nott, Macnair, Rowle, Jugson, Travers, Ranulf, Halden, and others whose names I didn't know. Mr Weasley, the Imperiused wizard, stood away from the rest, confused and isolated._

"_Don't kill her too quickly, Rodolphus," Dolohov laughed. "The rest of us want our turn too."_

"_Trust me," the Death Eater cackled, "after watching her kill my brother, I have no intention of giving her a quick death … FLAGEO!"_

_With one last echoing shriek, the vision ended._

For one, agonising millisecond, I was paralysed, suspended in silence and horror; and then …

Total. Utter. Madness.

I was animal. A bloodthirsty savage, terrible and primitive. Launching myself at the Death Eater, I had every intention of ripping his head off. Alice screamed at my brothers to restrain me, while Rosalie and the Minister took hold of Saber, whom I had flung against the wall a moment before, possibly fracturing a number of bones in the process. While Jasper and Emmett held me in place, Alice took hold of my face.

"Edward, we have to get to Bella. Now. There's no time."

"What's going on?" Brone demanded in his confusion.

"The Death Eaters have been summoned by Mr Weasley. He's the Imperiused wizard. If we don't find Bella soon, they'll kill her."

If it were possible, the wizard turned as white as a vampire at my sister's prediction. His panicked eyes flew to mine, and without another word, he offered me his hand. Alice cried out to the others, but I couldn't process what she said. My vision took on a blistering scarlet; I wanted to kill. I snatched up the wizard's hand, and followed him into the blackness.

**BPOV**

It felt as if I'd been hit in the head with a Bludger when I came to. I groaned loudly and gripped my head. I would have killed for an Advil. I didn't immediately remember precisely how I'd ended up on the quarry floor; once the memory returned, however, everything suddenly clicked into place.

From the very beginning, it had been Mr Weasley. He was cursed. The Death Eaters had magically coerced him to take part in their scheme. I could only guess at their reason for that: they wanted someone with access to Harry. They'd already expressed an interest in killing him the night they invaded Hogwarts. Mr Weasley was the perfect candidate; not only did he frequently encounter the wizard, he had also been a member of The Order of the Phoenix. In the past, Ron had mentioned the fact that the Minister, perhaps somewhat carelessly, continued to confide in those he still considered close friends—Mr and Mrs Weasley. And who would suspect him, after all? Who would suspect a man working in the Department for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts?

A low male voice sounded to my left. I was afraid to open my eyes, especially when I recognised the sinister hiss of Rookwood. Without warning, something collided fast and hard with my ribs. The pain was unbelievable. It rippled through every cell of my torso, leaving me whimpering on the ground, scrunched into the foetal position. Feigning unconsciousness was no longer an option. If anything, it would only earn me another kick to the ribs, or something worse, and so I allowed my eyes to flicker open, only to be greeted by the sight of a big leather boot. I looked up to see Rodolphus Letrange standing over me. I'd met him before, during his last invasion of the school, when I'd inadvertently killed his brother, Rabastan.

"Awake, are we?" the Death Eater smiled. "Good." My vision blurred as his foot smashed into my jaw, and searing white agony ripped up the side of my face. Blood filled my mouth, and despite the recent control I'd managed to develop in that area, owing to the awakening of my inner animal, I still felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. Deep laughter filled the air as I spat a molar onto the floor, along with a mouthful of sanguine fluid. A few feet away, Rodolphus' comrades were cheering, relishing my suffering.

I patted my pockets, hoping but not expecting to find my wand. Rodolphus merely sneered.

"It's not there. Arthur was kind enough to confiscate it while you were out." He held up my wand and waved it before me. I hated seeing it in the hands of someone so repulsive, inside and out. It was a complete violation. He turned it in his fingers as he examined it, nodding appreciatively. "This is a nice wand. Yew, if I'm not mistaken?"

I didn't answer.

"The Dark Lord's wand was also made from yew," he said, with a fanatical gleam in his eyes. "Not many people are chosen by yew wands. Did you know that yew sap is poisonous, and that the tree itself has therefore become a symbol of death?"

I didn't know what Rodolphus was implying, but I didn't appreciate the comparison with Voldemort.

"The core?" With the utmost loathing, I glared up at the Death Eater. His hair looked as if it had been fried in chip fat, and he possessed the general look of an idiot. He arched his brow, impatient for my answer.

"Unicorn hair."

"Ah, I see … Interesting." His eyes trailed once more over my wand, before finally landing back on my face. I held my ground as his smile transformed into an ugly sneer. "An innocent core for such a dark exterior. What could it possibly mean?"

"I know what it means," Dolohov grinned. "Beneath that cold surface, there's a frightened little girl. I wonder what it'll take to make her cry."

Rodolphus' smile grew wider. "Let's find out, shall we?"

I refused to show my fear as he lifted his own wand in my direction. Attempting escape was pointless. I wouldn't stand a chance. It was me against them, and there were at least a dozen. Time after time, I'd managed to scrape my way out of the most impossible situations, but I couldn't see that happening now.

"What are we going to do with her?" Selwyn wondered, eyes sparkling with greedy anticipation.

"I can think of a few things," laughed Dolohov. At his words, a violent shudder ripped up my spine. He reminded me of a hungry crocodile, and the way his gaze slowly trailed over my body—appraising and voracious—made me feel like a piece of meat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into.

"Let's start off small, shall we?" Rodolphus smiled. Suddenly, I was thrown into the air, propelled upwards, before an invisible force slammed me back down with cruel intensity. Black spots formed across my vision. My collision with the earth left me winded, and I couldn't have screamed even if I'd wanted to.

"Now, Mudblood, let's have a look at those pretty fingers."

Though self-preservation was an impossibility at this point, I still made an effort, however feeble, to protect my hands from the cruel Death Eater. Stuffing them into my pockets, I felt my right hand brush against something cold and smooth. A second later, I pulled out the enchanted mirror, and felt hope kindle in my breast. Evidently, Mr Weasley hadn't seen any reason to remove something as innocent as a looking glass.

Selwyn tutted. "You know … vanity isn't a desirable quality. We should help her with that, Rodolphus."

"I agree." I screamed in protest as he bent to pry the device from my trembling fingers. Aside from my engagement ring, it was my only tie to Edward, so I sobbed harder than ever when it was snatched away. "That youthful creamy skin of yours is just a little too impeccable if you ask me," said Rodolphus. "A few imperfections add … character to a person."

I watched in horror as he magically enlarged the mirror. With great alacrity, he then proceeded to prop it up against a large boulder, angling it so that I had a clear view of my upper body. The wizard then spun back to face me. In the next few moments, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Rodolphus' eyes dimmed. A torturous calm settled over his face. I could have handled excitement, but his abrupt loss of emotion terrified me more than anything. Here was a psychopath if ever I'd met one. All of a sudden, he threw back his arm, high above his head, before bringing it down like a whip, slashing the air.

With an atrocious crack, the curse cut through my skin as easily as a knife through butter. A high wail spewed through my lips, as piercing and terrible as the pain in my chest. I tossed my head as the torment continued, only to be faced with my pitiful reflection. Blood was staining my white school shirt, and beneath a large tear in the fabric there lay an angry laceration, the same that had afflicted Draco Malfoy after the Death Eaters had tortured him inside the Slytherin common room.

I barely had time to brace myself before the wand cracked again, and another deep cut appeared on my stomach. Then another across my thighs.

"CRUCIO!"

The world gave way to fire and anguish as the curse tore at my body. There was only one thing more painful than this. Only venom could inflict more torment than the Cruciatus Curse. I felt as if I'd been dowsed in oil, tied to a rack, stretched to breaking point, and finally set alight. My spine arched involuntarily, contorted by sheer agony.

Again, the Death Eaters cheered and cackled.

"Don't kill her too quickly, Rodolphus," Travers chuckled, distracting his friend and unintentionally offering me a momentary reprieve. "The rest of us want our turn too."

Rodolphus laughed, and said, "Trust me, after watching her kill my brother, I have no intention of giving her a quick death."

Exhausted, my head rolled to the side. I just wanted to close my eyes and be done with it; of course, that all changed the second I caught sight of Edward's beautiful face, livid and glorious—an angel of vengeance and destruction—as he stared back at me through the mirror, unnoticed by the oblivious Death Eaters.

My next scream had nothing to do with Rodolphus' Flagellation Curse; I howled because tanned skin, sandy hair, and frosty eyes suddenly replaced the features of my beloved vampire. Brone, the hostile Auror, peered out through the glass, his eyes drinking in the scene before him.

The psycopath turned to his friends. "Who else wants a turn?" he shouted cheerfully. They responded with the utmost enthusiasm, and surged forwards.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Dolohov snickered. "I'm really, really going to enjoy this."

The Death Eaters formed a semi-circle three metres from my feet, all raising their wands in preparation. Resigned to my fate, I vowed to live out my last few minutes of life as bravely as I could. With my jaw firmly clenched, and my eyes squeezed shut, I awaited my end, determined not to scream.

After one final cackle, Rodolphus bid me farewell, and then …

The turn of the tide.

With a simple popping sound and a gush of air, everything changed. My eyes flew open to terrified faces. Sounds of shock and alarm filled the air, and then the Death Eaters were retreating! Their cries directly preceded a welcomed chorus of deep, ferocious roars heralding chaos and bloodshed. My hair was whipped across my face as four vampires—Edward, Jasper, Alice, and Emmett—flew over and around me, charging towards the line of dark wizards, lips curling back over glistening teeth, ready for the kill. Brone rushed on behind them, throwing one spell after another, his expression furious.

The Death Eaters fell like bowling pins, smashed aside by the feral strength of the undead siblings. The lower-ranking were the first to go; their disloyal comrades pushed them into the path of the vampires in an attempt to forestall their own obliteration. I watched in awe as Alice, my tiny, elfin friend, snapped Halden's neck like a matchstick, while Jasper and Emmett tackled Rowle and Macnair.

My heart sank as Rodolphus threw a jet of fire in Edward's direction. His reflexes were much too fast, however, and he dodged it easily, before picking up Nott by his robes and flinging him at his comrade. The pair went whizzing backwards through the air, and crashed against one of the quarry's many boulders. Nott was knocked out on impact, but Rodolphus remained conscious, and quickly shoved his friend aside. He was in the process of wielding another spell when a clamour from the sky demanded the attention of the group.

Fifty metres away, where the forest ended, broom-wielding flyers were diving from the canopy, an effusion of war-cries bursting from their chest as they sped towards their targets. First came Harry, leading the company; then came Ginny, tied with Ron, who carried Hermione on the back of his Firebolt. Screaming behind them, like the enraged lunatics they were, were George, Percy, Charlie, Bill and Fleur; then McGonagall and Flitwick and Sinstra and Hooch, Martin and Vector, Slughorn and Sprout. Down, down they came, and from their wands poured a deluge of angry red flares.

Fulplume appeared out of nowhere, and joined the fray, battling alongside Brone who was fighting a Death Eater only five metres or so away from where I laid.

"THIS ONE'S FOR YOU, FREDDIE-BOY!" George cackled manically with madness in his eyes. "YOU'D BETTER BE WATCHING! GIVE 'EM HELL!"

And Freddie-Boy would indeed have been proud of his twin, who transfigured Crabbe's hands into anvils. With such an enormous and impossible weight to carry, the Death Eater fell forwards onto all fours, his butt now an easy target. It was a moment that would be cradled for all eternity in the loving folds of my memory, the type that choirs of angels celebrate in heaven for its sheer, utter glory: George, descending from the sky at a hundred miles per hour, laughing hysterically, before planting his steel-capped boot right into the Death Eater's backside.

The ensuing howls were music to my ears, and I knew that if I lived through this, I would definitely be revisiting _that _moment when I next used my pensieve.

My friends and teachers continued to apply their skills, and blasted away one enemy after another. In the midst of all the chaos, I was too awestruck to move; besides, I didn't have a wand, so I couldn't really contribute. I'd just end up getting in the way. With most of the Death Eaters incapacitated, Rodolphus was one of the only three left standing. Edward smiled wickedly at his opponent, and dodged another profusion of flames. The Death Eater must have realised long ago that his situation was hopeless, because the frantic look in his eyes transformed suddenly into something resembling resignation. I knew then that he planned to disapparate.

His head turned suddenly in my direction though. An almighty roar—a mixture of fury and terror—suddenly drowned out every other sound. Rodolphus lifted his wand, and before my vampire had the chance to snatch it away, a streak of purple flames shot from the tip. Edward's horrified face was the last thing I saw before Brone thrust himself through the air—before he willingly took the curse that had been entirely intended for me.

With a small gasp, he fell backwards. Percy and Bill, both of whom had landed nearby, caught him before he could hit the floor. Clutching my shredded torso, I ignored my own pain and hurriedly scrambled to the wizard's side, my heart thudding wildly inside its cage.

"Oh God!" I cried when I saw the effusion of blood pouring from his mouth. "Oh no. SOMEBODY HELP HIM!"

Without my wand, I was powerless.

Bill ripped open the Auror's shirt, but there was no trace of external damage. Edward was beside me in an instant. Jasper had taken hold of Rodolphus, one arm crushing the Death Eater's windpipe, and was now hissing something into his ear, while he used his free hand to crush his wand to dust.

Brone coughed, and more blood shot from his mouth. Percy was just about to perform a spell—what I had no idea—when he was stopped by the Irish wizard himself.

"D-don't," he spluttered. At first, Percy looked like he was about to protest, a crease forming between his eyes. In the end though, he relented, and gave a sad nod of his head. Brone turned to look up at Edward. I wasn't precisely sure what passed between them, because the Auror uttered no words. He'd been so severely mutilated by the curse that excessive speaking, I think, was beyond him. Despite that, and judging by the mutual intensity of their gazes, I was positive that he was communicating with Edward.

Brone gave a strained smile, and Edward nodded, before he reached down to grip the wizard's hand.

"Thank you," he said, conveying in one simple whisper gratitude of unimaginable proportions.

My rescuer's eyes flicked to me then, and like Edward, I reached down to entwine my fingers with those of his free hand. He smiled wider, and for the first time since I had met him, the sandy-haired wizard looked truly happy.

"Aah … Isolt." A tear slipped down my cheek as Brone, the last victim of Death Eater tyranny, breathed his final breath. With the golden light of the setting sun on his face, the light left his eyes, and he died.

Silence surrounded me as I continued to crouch by the fallen hero. Those humans who weren't kneeling at Brone's side were hovering over injured Death Eaters, their wands pressed to the throats of our enemies. McGonagall was inspecting Mr Weasley, who seemed to have no clue as to what was happening, and was staring on at the scene in complete puzzlement.

"Bella." At the sound of my name, I turned to Edward, sighing with relief as he scooped me quickly into his arms.

"You came," I croaked. After so much screaming, my voice was hoarse. Edward nodded solemnly, and laid a heartfelt kiss on my forehead. Apart from that, nothing else was said, raw as we were, following the battle and the subsequent death of Brone.

Edward carried me back to The Burrow, while the Aurors poured in to arrest the Death Eaters. My stomach rumbled the entire way back, and, considering what had just happened, I couldn't help but feel guilty for my body's reactions to hunger. Two hours spent in the body of a ferocious predator really gave a girl an appetite. I couldn't remember ever being so hungry.

Carlisle was waiting for us at The Burrow, he concluded that one night's stay in the hospital wing at Hogwarts would be adequate for my recovery. I was transported there immediately. Edward remained by my side while Madam Pomfrey fussed over my injured body. First, she fed me with a blood-replenishing potion; then, after waving her wand a few times over the bloody lacerations, which healed for the most part, she dabbed me with dittany. Unfortunately, the Flagellation Curse took a long time to recover from. The wounds closed, but the burn remained. I could still feel the whip on my skin, and I knew that while I would be able to move freely without having to worry about the gashes opening again, the pain would stay with me for at least a week. The same had been true for Draco Malfoy, after the Death Eaters had tortured him in the Slytherin common room. He had felt the fire on his skin for a full fortnight, and had been so severely injured by the Flagellation Curse that Gryffindor's game with Slytherin had been postponed until the end of the year.

The final treatment the witch issued came in the form of a spoonful of foul-smelling liquid. This was apparently used for re-growing teeth, and since I did not relish the idea of spending eternity without a full set, I drank it gladly. Madam Pomfrey made a joke about the tooth-fairy at one point, but I honestly couldn't find any enthusiasm for her weak sense of humour, and subsequently pretended to fall asleep.

I had run more than fifteen miles to find Mr Weasley; I had been kicked, whipped and tortured, and I had watched a man take a curse for me, which resulted in the loss of his life. Hungry and exhausted, it wasn't long before I actually did drop into unconsciousness. Edward's hand cupping my cheek was the last thing I felt before my eyes closed.

George was the first person I saw when I woke up. He was leaning over me with a curious expression on his face, probably searching for signs of life.

"Unnnngh."

"Hey, she's awake!" he said cheerfully. "Thought it'd never happen, you lazy bugger. How you feelin', Bellsy?"

"Unnnngh!"

"That bad, eh?"

"No, I'm just despairing at the state of your nostrils."

George gave a hearty laugh. "Hey, there's a reason why I don't clean them. I'm stocking up on essential ingredients for Wizard Wheezes."

"Ack! Please tell me you're joking," gagged Hermione, who was standing off to the left by Ron, Harry and Ginny. The Cullens occupied the space to the right of my bed. Carlisle was the only vampire that wasn't present. He must still be at the hospital.

"How are you feeling, Bella?" Alice asked.

I shrugged and eased myself into a sitting position. "Aside from a bit of toothache, I'm not too bad." Of course, I was lying. Beneath my pyjamas my flesh was on fire. Edward didn't miss the way I winced, and the worried crease soon filled the space between his eyes.

"I'm fine," I tried to assure him, throwing him a wide smile. He didn't have to suffer with me.

Emmett's booming laughter suddenly disrupted the quiet. He doubled over, and smacked his palms against his knees. Beside him, Rosalie and Jasper were clearly attempting to suppress similar laughter. When they failed to enlighten me on the source of their amusement, Edward stepped in. "Just ignore them, Bella. It's nothing."

"As if!" his brother cried. "Her teeth are practically luminous!"

My hand automatically flew to my mouth. Emmett only laughed harder at my self-consciousness.

"Like I said," Edward sighed, frowning at his brother, "ignore him. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, Bella. The solution you took to regrow your tooth had a secondary effect, that's all."

"Secondary effect?"

"Basically," Ron smiled, "your teeth are so pearly we could use them for jewellery. Even the Cullens can't compete with you."

The look of horror that settled over my face produced a wave of soft chuckles. I lunged for the mirror on my bedside table, ignoring the protesting pain in my abdomen, and peered into the glass. "GAH!"

"Bella," Edward grimaced, "it really isn't that bad."

"Bad? Edward, I look like I have a mouth full of fairy-lights!" An unnaturally white celebrity smile I could have lived with, but these were so brilliant that they reflected the light in the same way that vampire skin did. I had sparkly teeth!

"I'm never going to be able to smile in public again," I groaned.

"Oh, nonsense, Miss Swan," Madam Pomfrey chided. "A few cups of coffee and they'll be as right as rain." The witch, who was sitting in a big leather chair, reading a romance novel on the far side of the room, wasn't normally so indifferent to crowds in the hospital wing. As things were, I was currently her only patient, and aside from aching gums where my new molar was breaking through, and the angry pink scars covering my body, I was back to normal.

My visitors left while I changed out of my pyjamas. Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep me in until the pain of the lacerations diminished, but I wasn't about to spend a week in bed. I'd end up going out of my mind.

Alice had handed me my outfit for the day before she stepped out of the room. It consisted of cropped, skinny chinos made from khaki silk and a thin brown belt, a sleeveless cream blouse with a vintage ruffle, brown metallic pumps and, of course, the Newton Ball—my own personal safeguard against inherent clumsiness.

According to the school nurse, it was ten o'clock in the morning. The previous day had drained me so completely that I'd slept for fourteen hours.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had joined the others by the time I made my way out of the hospital wing. They were waiting for me in the corridor outside, which was pretty much deserted, owing to the fact that most of the students had gone home for Easter. Mrs Weasley was the first to hug me. She swept me into a tight embrace the moment I stepped through the door, and thanked me profusely for locating her husband. I couldn't stop the wince that broke through my lips. Realising her mistake, the witch took a step back and quickly apologised, before moving aside to make room for her husband.

"I am so very sorry, Bella," he murmured, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Can you ever forgive me for what happened yesterday?"

"Mr Weasley, it wasn't your fault," I insisted.

The wizard shook his head and pulled back. "I should have been strong enough to fight it. I … I tried."

"I know, otherwise why would you have wandered so far away?"

The wizard nodded. He seemed to have gained years in appearance over the last few months. The strain of the curse had weighed heavily on his health, and now he was sprouting a streak of grey hair along the side of his head.

"I still can't believe it was you, Dad," George chuckled. "Who would have thought?"

Mr Weasley didn't look as if he appreciated his son's amused attitude, and instead chose to ignore it. "I tried to tell Ron in the hospital," he said, turning to the wizard in question. "I tried to warn you after I …"

He couldn't finish, but I could work the rest out for myself. It had been Mr Weasley's spell that had brought boulders and rubble crashing down on my Quidditch friends. Under the influence of the Imperius Curse, he had almost killed his own son.

"The quarry was our meeting place," he went on, blanching as he spoke. "The Death Eaters ordered me to kill you if the opportunity presented itself, but I resisted, and so instead they told me to get you to the quarry, and contact them when we arrived."

"Contact them how?" I asked. Edward gave me my answer; he held up a small silver cell-phone. At first, I looked at him as if waiting for the punch-line. When I realised there wasn't one, my mouth almost hit the floor. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "The Ministry has been monitoring wizard communications all year. Owls were being intercepted, and the Floo Network was constantly under surveillance. The Death Eaters were even afraid to use Patronuses."

"Which is why they resorted to mobile telephones," a blushing Mr Weasley continued. "I, um, I might have been the one to offer that idea. They were pretty disgusted with it at first, but, in the end, they couldn't deny the benefits. There was no way for the Ministry to intercept that type of transmission. I think I even suggested email at one point, but that was pushing it."

"Well, that's fair enough," I said, "but telephones don't work in areas with high magical activity. How did you get around that?"

Mr Weasley blushed again. He bit his lip and cast his eyes down to his shuffling feet. "Rookwood ordered Macnair to take up admin work. They stationed him in an abandoned farm house."

"Macnair? Macnair as in … the executioner?"

"That's the one," Ron snorted, flinging his arm around Hermione's shoulder, who in turn wound one of her own around his waist. "Tried to kill Buckbeak, remember?"

I nodded. Yes, I remembered. "Somehow, he didn't strike me as the secretarial type."

"Nor me," smirked George. "I wonder if a skirt was part of his uniform."

Mr Weasley rolled his eyes. "No, but I am told he spent a great deal of his time playing Tetris. Apparently, he was quite the addict."

"What's Tetris, Dad?"

"It's … well, it's a game that … never mind."

Because Mr and Mrs Weasley were due to give evidence at the Ministry, they were forced to leave before they could completely satisfy my curiosity. Luckily, Edward was there to fill me in. He delivered all the details as soon as we made it back to his dormitory.

The Death Eaters had placed the Imperius Curse on Mr Weasley in the fall of the previous year. He, in turn, had cursed Trelawney so that she'd let the Death Eaters in past the Whomping Willow on the night of the masquerade ball. He'd used the Puking Pastilles from the Skiving Snack-Box line to escape the Great Hall. Outside the bathroom, he had consumed the anti-sweet, before locating his target and performing the curse. Finally, he'd returned to the bathroom, eaten a third sweet, and spent the next five minutes barfing in one of the cubicles until his wife arrived. More recently, he had informed Saber that Edward had spied on him while he was busy Confunding Alpheus Truman. Edward had conveyed his discovery and plan to confront the wizard during our trip to St Mungos. The Weasleys had been there to watch over Harry and Ron; I had been there because Paul and Leah had nearly killed me after mistaking me for a vampire. Mr Weasley had learned of Kingsley's and Edward's intentions through his son, Charlie. Initially, we thought Cormac McLaggen had blabbed, but it turned out that we were wrong. After Iago Callidon learnt that he was a prime suspect, he concocted the scent distorting potion, and when he next met the Cullens, they couldn't deny that his personal bouquet was a mile away from that of the Halloween attacker.

"So every single time the Death Eaters outsmarted the Aurors, it was all because Mr Weasley was passing on information?"

"Pretty much. Normally, he heard all the ambushing plans from the Minister himself. Kingsley never suspected Arthur, and because they confided in one another so frequently during the Order days, the Minister continued to do so even after the death of Voldemort."

I shook my head in disbelief. Edward hugged me closer to him. It was a relief to be so near to him. The Cullens hadn't followed us up to the dormitory. After the ordeal of the past twenty-four hours, I think they realised that we needed some space.

Edward fell into silence as he stared up at the ceiling. His sea-green eyes were intense, yet out of focus, and it was clear that he was deep in thought. His fingers ghosted up and down my spine, tracing patterns every now and then across my shoulder-blades.

"What are you thinking about?"

A half-hearted smile played at the edges of his mouth. "Isn't that usually my line?" He sighed while I waited for him to continue, before eventually meeting my gaze. "I was thinking about Brone."

At the mention of the late Auror, I was immediately sucked into a maelstrom of a dozen different emotions. I couldn't sort out one from the other. My thoughts were trapped in complete pandemonium. I had barely known the wizard, and yet he had thrown himself between me and the Death Eater who otherwise would have destroyed me.

The painful memory was impossible to escape; it echoed in my head like the blusterous howl of a gale, haunting and treacherous. I'd recognised the purple flame in an instant; it was the same spell that Dolohov had used to hospitalise Hermione. The only reason my friend had escaped death in the first place was because the Death Eater had been prevented from uttering the curse aloud, having fallen subject to a silencing charm. Brone had had no such luck.

"I don't understand why he did it," I whispered, leaning over Edward, whose glazed eyes finally resumed their focus. "I mean … he didn't know me. He had no reason."

"He had every reason," Edward argued softly. He lifted his hand to my face and let his icy thumb move across my cheek. My body reacted in its usual way, and despite the chill of his touch, heat stirred beneath the skin he was currently devoting so much attention to. At my blush, he leaned up to kiss me. My heartbeat thundered wildly in my chest at the contact, and I resented the fact that I had so little control over my body's responses. Finally, Edward sighed and pulled away, sinking back down until his head touched the ivory pillow.

"How can I put this?" he wondered morosely. "Brone was … he was tired. He'd lost his wife to a depraved vampire. Hate and rage consumed him, so much so that his obsession with revenge became the only thing he had to live for. And then he discovered our business with James, and all hope of vengeance went out the window. To put it simply, he lost his reason for living.

"Brone knew what he was sacrificing when he jumped in front of that curse, Bella," Edward said. His stare was so intense that I could barely hold it. "The answer, or so he would have said, was 'not a lot.' Besides, he felt indebted to us, and he hated that—owing a favour to a family of vampires. On the other hand, I think he'd accepted by the end that we weren't the evil creatures he'd originally taken us for."

All the sadness of the world seemed to weigh on Edward's shoulders as he explained Brone's motives. He told me that in his final moments, the wizard's greatest fear was that another should have to suffer the same horrific end that fate had dealt him and Isolt—that a young girl in the prime of life should be killed so cruelly, and that a seemingly good man should lose his reason for being.

"We were four miles away when I saw the quarry through the spy-band. I might not have made it in time if it hadn't been for Brone. He used your gift to build an image in his head, and then he took us there… I owe him everything," whispered Edward, eyes afire. "Everything that I have … everything I'm going to have."

The fervour in his words caught me off guard. I didn't notice the movement of his arm, but I suddenly felt his hand on my hip. Goosebumps erupted beneath my shirt as his fingers moved to the centre of my belly.

"What do you mean?" I blurted suddenly, before I lost my train of thought. Unfortunately, I received no reply. A wide grin spread across my fiancé's face, one that touched his eyes and cupped a joy so obvious and excessive that it left me speechless. It was earnest, yet secretive, as if he was in possession of privileged information.

Finally, the stunning vampire released a peal of low, musical laughter warm enough to melt butter. He ruffled my hair, and said, "The wedding, of course. What else would I be talking about?"

For some reason though, this answer left me unsatisfied, and Edward continued to smile in a way that made me positive he was hiding something. Once again, his fingers moved lovingly over my abdomen, propelling my jumbled thoughts to a new level of incoherency.

When he roughly tugged my face down to his a moment later, all hope of lucidity was shattered. Whatever his secret, for I was sure he had one—he was Edward, after all—it would have to wait for another day.

**A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of this section of a three-part story. The Secret Keeper came first, The Wisdom Seeker second, and after the next chapter, which will celebrate Bella's final months at Hogwarts, I will be bringing you my adaptation of 'Breaking Dawn'. **

**I hope this ending satisfied you. I always knew how I wanted to finish this, and I tied up the loose ends as best I could. Reviews are appreciated, and thanks in advance to those of you kind enough to send them.**

**Next … QUIDDITCH!**


	29. Victory

**A/N: I can't believe this is the last chapter of 'The Wisdom Seeker'. It's taken me a long time to write it, and I miss the days when I had nothing to do but work on my stories; but, alas, I have to work if I want to live. I've been applying for teaching posts and I have an interview next week. Wish me luck. Now, without further ado, Quidditch …**

**EPOV**

May: a warm, pleasant month—the penultimate of the academic calendar. A month in which N.E.W.T. students frantically prepare for their gruelling summative assessments; more importantly (some would say), the month the one victorious team lifts the Quidditch Cup.

Across the table, Bella violently stabbed the sausage on her plate. She had no intention of eating it, of course. She rarely ate before she was due to play. The only purpose the food served now was to prepare her mentally for what she was about to do. Her eyes possessed none of their usual gentleness. If anything, they were slightly psychotic—chocolate buttons on fire—as she mutilated the remains of a once happy farm animal. When the meat—a substitute for Slytherins—had been thoroughly shredded, Bella moved on to her toast, which she quickly began pulling to pieces, grinning wickedly all the while.

"Bella, don't you think you'll be better prepared if you eat something?" I questioned, finally interceding. I'd never seen her like this before. Even when Gryffindor had faced the other teams, there had only been the signs of fierce determination. Now I understood why she frightened people. I've met sweeter looking serial killers.

Bella grunted, but otherwise did not answer. I turned to stare worriedly at my siblings. By the looks of things, they were reluctant to speak. No one wanted to provoke the Gryffindor Chaser, who may or may not have been contemplating bloody murder. Only Emmett looked encouraged.

_Excellent, _he thought, eagerly shuffling forwards. He was so excited for the match that he could barely sit still. His gaze shifted from Bella to Amicus, who was cheerfully seated beside her, tossing one scoop of scrambled eggs after another into his mouth with wild abandon.

When I peered over to the Slytherin table, the students were laughing heartily amongst themselves, exuding an easy confidence. As far as _they_ were concerned, their house had already won. For Gryffindor to overcome them, we'd need to finish the game with a two-hundred and sixty point lead, meaning that Harry would only be able to catch the snitch when we were one hundred and ten points ahead of our opposition. That put an incredible amount of pressure on Bella, Ginny and Viola.

Almost everyone seemed to feel the tension. It was as if a thick sheet of black clouds had descended over the team, which wouldn't have been all that unusual, considering we were seated beneath the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall; however, it was perfectly sunny outside, so the heavy atmosphere had nothing to do with the weather.

I perked up at the sound of my father's mind. He was in the process of leading a pack of gawking men down the Grand Staircase, and I had to wonder whether or not I had worn the same dumbfounded expression during my first visit to the school.

Nudging Jasper, I murmured, "They're here."

My brother chuckled lowly and turned to look at Bella. Her vendetta against her breakfast was on-going, so when a wave of curious and excited whispering swept through the Great Hall like a breeze through long grass, she remained completely oblivious.

"Holy hotdog! I'm in heaven! This is heaven!"

With a gasp, Bella suddenly dropped her fork and shot up from the bench. She whirled on the spot, searching for the owner of the deep American voice. When her eyes were greeted with the sight of seven familiar faces, her jaw almost hit the floor.

Charlie, Jacob, Embry, Quil, Jared, Paul and Seth were standing in the aisle separating the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Embry, Quil, Seth and Jared, the last of which had been the one to alert Bella, had their twinkling eyes on the many platters of food covering the tables, and were licking their lips with anticipation.

"Hey, kiddo," Charlie smiled, looking at his daughter.

"Dad?" answered Bella, blinking with disbelief. "What—you—what are you—"

"We're here to watch you play."

"What?"

Jacob stepped forwards, his casual posture giving no hint of discomfort. It was as if he hadn't notice the scrutiny he and his friends were receiving. "You heard him, Bells," he grinned. "We're here to watch you kick some serious be-hind."

Bella shook her head, continuing to stare at the pair in total shock and awe. All around, the students were eyeing the newcomers, most of whom were receiving looks of appreciation from the female half of the student body.

"Basically," Charlie continued sheepishly, "we offered to buy new supplies for your school. We made a considerable donation, and then your headmistress was kind enough to invite us to watch Quidditch as a thank you."

Bella crossed her arms. Obviously, she wasn't buying it. "You? _You _lot made a considerable donation?"

"It's true."

"Uh huh, and I'm a pigmy-puff."

"A what now?"

"Never mind." She stared at the new arrivals for one moment longer, savouring the sight of them, before she suddenly dashed towards them, and flung her arms around their necks. Charlie patted her on the back, and after extricating himself, allowed Jacob to lift her off the floor. Although I was slightly irked by the whole thing, I was at least grateful for the fact that the Wolves were fully dressed. Of course, any jealousy I felt went completely out the window when lo and behold, Talto—Bella's lovable, if not slightly naughty, familiar—dropped two cheeky fresh ones on the heads of my rival himself and Paul, the Quileute who had almost killed Bella at Christmas.

"What the … Eew! DAMN IT, BELLA!"

I was powerless to prevent the roar of laughter that subsequently spilled from my mouth. Not one of my siblings seemed to be able to control themselves either, and if we could have cried, every single one of us would have been doubled over in floods of tears. Rosalie accidently put a crack in the table as she banged her fists against the wood, howling with laughter all the while. Emmett and Jasper leaned against each other for support. Alice and I were just as bad, and our violent glee quickly propelled the rest of the hall into similar fits of hilarity.

Jacob's unforgiving attitude didn't relent, and he continued to glare up at the owl, who was currently in the process of performing his usual victory shuffle on one of the rafters. Paul, meanwhile, barely reacted.

"I guess I deserved that one," he muttered, looking up at the feathery rogue. His gaze quickly fell on my fiancée, who seemed just as amused by the scene as the rest of us.

"Let's just forget about it, eh?" she said, once her laughter subsided. "It's in the past."

And that was all that was said on the matter; Bella and Paul put the past behind them just like that. Despite the fact that the Wolf's hair was still smeared with the remains of Talto's last meal, his bright eyes twinkled with gratitude and relief. He was thrilled that Bella was willing to wipe the slate clean, and she seemed just as happy for the fresh start. Charlie, on the other hand, looked on at the Quileute with a less forgiving eye. The wicked smirk he wore as he gazed up at Talto's gift was encouraging. Judging by the tenor of his mind, I gathered that he'd accepted that Paul was truly sorry for what happened at Christmas time, but that didn't lessen his anger; and if the characteristic stubbornness of the Swan family was anything to go by, it would be a long while before the Wolf made it back in the police chief's good books. For that, I was happy. My own animosity was still too sharp for anything less. I was only glad that Leah had decided to stay away.

Charlie and the Wolves sat down to eat. While Hermione used her magical skills to remove the droppings from Paul's and Jacob's hair, Bella's father filled her in on the truth behind their visit.

"Of course, we have Edward to thank for this."

The witch's lips twitched as she stared at me from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, I'd guessed as much."

"It's the last time you'll play for your house," I shrugged. "I thought it would be nice if you could have your dad here." Bella stared at me for a long while. All around us, the Wolves were either shovelling food into their mouths, or locked in animated conversations with the students. I couldn't absorb anything they were saying though, because I was captivated by Bella's face, which held so much beauty and intensity as she stared at me that I was powerless to look away.

"Thank you," she said finally, intertwining our fingers beneath the table.

"You're very welcome," I replied fervently.

After a few moments, Bella's gratitude melted into new emotion. Infectious giggling filled the air, and she shook her head. "I can't believe you bribed the headmistress."

"Hey, even McGonagall has her price. Can you imagine the criticism she'd get if she turned down the opportunity for all those new broomsticks?"

"And cauldrons. Don't forget those."

"Yes," I smiled, "and astronomy equipment, and expensive potion ingredients, etcetera, etcetera."

"You're unbelievable."

"'N' wuh glad abou' dat," Charlie inserted through a mouthful of food. "Fanz Edward."

"No problem." I threw Charlie a warm smile, and he responded with one of his own. Jacob saw the exchange and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He didn't like or appreciate my growing friendship with Bella's father. For so long, he'd been the favourite, and yet, much to my delight, things were quickly changing.

When I listened to Charlie's mind, I realised that he, quite simply, was content. This was definitely a new development. In the past, the police chief had radiated an awkward resentment whenever he'd observed my affections for Bella. There was no trace of that anymore, though. Now, my loving regard for his daughter resulted in quite the opposite. If anything, Bella's glowing face when she looked at me sparked a quiet satisfaction in her father, as did the easy and tender way our fingers fitted together when we joined hands. I revelled in the change, elated by the long-awaited acceptance.

"Ugh! Put a fork in me," Charlie grunted, after pushing away his empty plate. He glanced down at his daughter's plate, which was still covered with her mangled breakfast. "Aren't you eating, kid?"

Bella shook her head. "Chances are I'll get a punch to the gut in the next couple of hours. I don't want to throw up."

Charlie looked taken aback.

_If anyone hurts her, I'll hurt them_, I thought dangerously, grinding my teeth; but, of course, Bella would argue that it was all a part of the game.

Charlie dismissed the comment with a shake of his head. "What about you Edward? Not hungry?"

Nervous laughter washed up my throat. "No. No, I'm not."

That was the moment it happened—the moment I should have foreseen … the moment that held the potential to shatter everything.

Seamus leaned forwards to smirk down the table. "He's saving room for when we drink from the cup. Once the rest of us are done with it, we're going to fill it with blood for the vampires!"

The tension was instantaneous. As if ensnared by the merciless grip of winter, the whole world seemed to freeze. Charlie's eyes were wide as his head snapped up in Seamus' direction. Like Bella and my siblings, I gasped.

The senseless revelation leeched the colour from Charlie's cheeks, destroying his mellow expression in a heartbeat. A dozen different emotions washed over his face within the space of three seconds, everything from fear to outright anger. Slowly, he turned his burning eyes back on Bella and me. Beside him, Jacob looked both wary and smug.

"I think you had better explain," Charlie barked at his daughter. If the nearby Gryffindors hadn't been listening before, they were now.

Bella winced. "Um, surprise?" The muscles of her father's jaw and forehead twitched with stress as he waited for the witch to continue. "Dad, I … I don't really know what to say."

"That makes two of us," he seethed, before turning his eyes on me. "Well?"

_Of all the rotten luck! _Rosalie thought, scowling at Seamus, who, unable to hold her gaze, was staring down at his feet instead, feeling like a total imbecile.

_I am a complete pillock._

With a sigh, I held Charlie's blistering stare, and pointed to my brother. "Emmett is still harbouring a grudge against the thing that nearly killed him in 1935. He likes to hunt bear; I prefer lion. Sometimes we hunt elk as well, but they're not as appealing as carnivores. At Hogwarts, we generally stick to dragon's blood."

I could practically hear the cogs working in Charlie's head while I explained. For the longest time, he couldn't say a word, but finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he arranged his thoughts enough to voice them. "You eat animals."

"Yes."

Another long pause followed my response, in which time Charlie nodded, his shoulders seeming to loosen, though only in the slightest. "Guess I do too."

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch very slightly. _That's it. Keep thinking that way._

"Y-you don't … kill people then?"

"No, Charlie. We're not like that."

He nodded again, before gnawing at his lip. His hard stare gradually softened as curiosity took hold. He was still wary, however, as he looked me over, head tilted slightly to the left. "Fangs?"

I chuckled. "No."

"Do you sleep in coffins?"

"I never sleep, but I wouldn't choose a coffin for a bed, even if I could, sir."

"Allergic to garlic?"

"No, sir."

"Holy water?"

I shook my head.

"Burned by the sun?"

"No. I sparkle in the sunlight, sir."

"You …" Charlie blinked, taken aback by my newest revelation. His mouth fell open and he sat a little straighter, before a frown formed on his face. "You … sparkle?"

"Yes, sir."

I wasn't entirely sure how Charlie would take the news. What I hadn't expected was that he would throw back his head and start roaring with laughter. I held Bella tightly as the sound of her father's hooting filled the hall, carrying over the voices of the students and teachers.

Everyone turned to stare at him. Even the Slytherins were curious as to what was going on. Charlie's eyes travelled around our group as he continued to cackle. When his gaze landed on Jasper, his laughter got louder; when his eyes found Emmett, he burst into tears, and started banging his fists against the table.

Emmett huffed, his nostrils flaring with indignation. _Why is everyone forgetting the fact that we're the most dangerous species on the planet!_

"Simple," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "Because we sparkle."

"Oh, that's a good one," Charlie chortled, wiping his eyes when his laughter finally began to subside. "That's—ha ha!—that's a really good one."

Although I was glad he was no longer staring daggers at me, the alternative wasn't much better. I had once been self-conscious about my reactions to sunlight, but, at the time, it had been for another reason entirely. I had assumed it would frighten Bella—that she would decide we were completely incompatible, and that I was something strange and terrible. While Charlie stared at me as though I'd suffered the worst fate known to man, however, shaking his head in sympathy, I felt new insecurities stirring within me, ones that were foreign. Sparkly skin, after all, could hardly be described as a terrifying manly quality. My brothers seemed to realise this too, and were equally embarrassed.

_If anyone says anything, _Emmett decided, _I'll maintain that jealousy is at work. Sparkles plus vampirism equals babe magnet, Emmett, and don't you forget it, which of course you won't, because your memory is infallible. Yeah, that'll work … unless it's a woman taking the mickey. Huh. That would be a serious problemo…_

Somehow, I managed to tune out my brother's internal monologue, so that I could concentrate on other things. Beside me, Bella shook with silent laughter.

"Not you as well."

"Sorry, Edward. At least you're pretty."

I groaned. "I had to go and open my big mouth, didn't I?"

The consolation was that Charlie convinced himself (without any additional input from me or the others) that my family was a mile away from the traditional vampires of horror movies, so much so that he didn't seem to care about what we ate to keep up our strength. He told me to my face that he couldn't imagine a more disgusting form of nourishment, but as long as humans didn't suffer as a result of our vampirism, he didn't really care. He'd learnt too much over the last couple of months to let this shock him, so he accepted what I was far quicker than I could ever have dreamed possible.

"You're not telling him the whole truth, bloodsucker," Jacob butted in, annoyed with Charlie's indifference. "What about the others out there? Have you forgotten about the leeches that tried to kill Bella?"

"I already know about those," Charlie said calmly. "Bells told me all about them at Christmas."

"And that doesn't bother you?" The Wolf gawked with incredulousness, evidently just as shocked as the rest of us by Charlie's unruffled demeanour.

"Well of course it does, Jake, but what am I to do about it? Humans kill too, and I can't stop that either. It doesn't mean I like it."

"But you still don't care that your daughter hangs out with vampires?"

Charlie snorted. "Jake, you're a werewolf, and you didn't seem too fussed when Bella—a witch I might add—hung out with _you._"

Jacob grunted, but took the hint and dropped the subject. _No point anyway. She'll only bite my head off._

Bella frowned at her grumpy friend, who obviously hated the idea of giving in. "If I remember rightly, you promised not to interfere with this anymore, Jake. At Christmas, remember?"

Jacob smirked. "Old habits die hard, Bells. I couldn't resist. Plus, I—"

"This is getting boring," Emmett interjected, rolling of his eyes. "We've had this conversation a million times now!" He leaned forwards on the bench, casting his head from side to side to take in the Wolves. "Just so we're all clear, can we please establish the fact, once and for all, that Bella—a witch—is marrying Edward—a vampire; and unless she insists on walking down the aisle in a garbage bag, thus incurring the wrath of a hyper-death pixie—don't ask, Charlie—nothing, not even a pack of moody, pubescent Wolves, or a bride-eating Cyclops, or the chance of rain is going to stop them. Get me?"

With a penetrating stare, Emmett searched the faces of each member of our group, earning a dozen muttered replies of agreement. "Now," he said, folding his arms, "can we _please_ start talking about Quidditch already? All this negativity is killing my high!"

_Not exactly sure where that came from, _thought Seth, _but … _"Ditto."

"I'll second that," offered Charlie, equally eager for a change in topic.

And that was that.

In truth, I couldn't blame Jacob; if it had been the other way around, I would have never stopped fighting for Bella. Still, I was glad when the focus of the discussion switched to tactics. The Wolves listened enthusiastically while Harry issued instructions and words of encouragement to his teammates.

"Girls, you know what you have to do, don't you?"

The Gryffindor Chasers nodded.

"This is our last chance to beat Slytherin. We won't get another. If they win today, we'll have to live with that fact for the rest of our lives, and there'll be no hope of settling the score. I don't know about you, but, personally, I think the idea is completely unacceptable."

"Agreed," Ron and Bella said together.

Harry nodded, his face set with a stony expression. "Right, then we're clear on the approach. We play like our lives depend on it. No holding back. No missed opportunities. No pain."

The fists of the players slammed against the table in unison, signalling their assent. One by one, they rose from the benches, preparing to exit the hall.

A moment later, I saw the Slytherin team get to their feet. In a tight line, they confidently strode down the aisle separating the tables, their smirks mimicked by the students they left behind. Daphne Greengrass and her sister, Astoria, both of whom had their eyes cast in Bella's direction, smiled coolly. The jeering of Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode could be heard over the lively chatter of the other students. In a bid to shatter my fiancée's cool exterior, they targeted her with mocking words, evidently aware of the exact buttons they needed to press to get a reaction. Bella's arms shook with rage. It was clear that she was trying to ignore them, but that must have been about as easy as sitting at the centre of a swarm of wasps, and feigning indifference at the constant stinging.

"The whole team is completely pathetic," Pansy said, a wicked gleam in her eye as she inspected her nails with fake boredom. "Why anyone, Mudblood or not, would want their disgusting Muggle father to watch them lose is entirely beyond me."

My lightning reflexes were the only thing that stopped Bella from transforming the witch into something befitting of her character: a snake, maybe, or, better yet, pig slime.

"She's not worth it," I whispered, while Bella struggled against my hold.

_I don't care. She crossed the line, Edward! Insulting me is one thing, but Charlie?_

"I know, but a reaction is exactly what she wants. Bella, you're a threat. They'll do anything to get you out of the game. You know McGonagall will be very upset if she's forced to give you detention."

Although Charlie had failed to hear the reprehensible comment of the Slytherin female, preoccupied as he had been in chatting with Alice, his wary eyes were now completely glued to his daughter, whose anger set all the newcomers on edge, and some of the students too. The Wolves, of course, had heard the insult all too clearly. While half of the pack kept their anxious eyes on Bella, the others were turned in the direction of the guilty witch, who quickly blanched after becoming the focus of so many burning glares.

I continued to keep a safe hold on Bella, preventing her from snatching up her wand. She trembled with fury, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Finally, however, she regained some measure of control, enough to summon a false mask of calm, and so I cautiously released her, my arms moving stiffly to my sides.

_She needs to focus, _Emmett decided, stepping up behind Bella. Gently, he touched her shoulder, but failing to anticipate the sudden contact, the witch flinched.

Emmett's face was incredibly cheerful as he glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the Slytherins. "Save some of that rage for the game, precious," he practically sang. "I won't be happy unless I see a few broken bones."

Part of me wanted to protest, but then I thought better of it and bit my tongue. _As if anything I could say would stop the fouls. I might as well ask a lion to turn vegan. _Despite my disapproval, I allowed the exchange to continue without interruption.

Bella, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate Emmett's encouragement, and returned his wicked grin with one of her own. "Aye-aye, coach."

"Good woman. Now," said my brother, pointing to the great doors of the hall, "get your bad self out there, Bells, and show 'em what happens when you mess with a Cullen."

The inspirational send-off given by the Quidditch fanatic reminded me of the favourite catchphrase of two of Bella's oldest friends. As I bid her farewell, conveying my wishes for good luck with a chaste kiss to her cheek, three glorious and unforgettable words roared in my head. No matter what the cost—no matter the lengths she would be forced to go to—the last and vital order of a once vivacious scoundrel would undoubtedly be fulfilled. One way or another, I knew without doubt that Bella—my incredible, breath-taking witch, whose cape and hair billowed out behind her as she marched from the room—would persistently and enthusiastically do her duty to remind all Hogwarts of Fred's legacy. If she succeeded, the outcome would be simple, and these words would never die: with joy in your heart and cheer on your face, proudly g_ive them hell._

A rhythmic boom filled the stadium as we waited for the teams to make their way out. The students thumped their fists against the wooden railings, and stamped their feet against the floor, exercising their anticipation and impatience into thunderous sound.

Although Charlie and the Wolves had been allocated honorary seats in the teachers' box, they had requested that they instead be allowed to 'mingle' with the students; and so to my left sat Bella's father and the Quileutes. The spot we'd chosen was shaded from the sun. Jasper and I reasoned that it would be better for the players if we kept out of direct sunlight. It would make it far more difficult for the Seekers to detect the Snitch if they had our sparkly skin to contend with. Charlie and Seth joked that our reasoning sprung from male insecurities, which of course we denied completely. That hadn't prevented the sniggering on our walk to the Quidditch pitch. Both Bella's father and the young Wolf thought our glittering appearance hilarious. Jasper's response was along the lines of _'You wish you were this cool.'_

As well as the newcomers, my siblings and I were joined by several human friends, including Hermione, Hagrid, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Luna, the last of whom was sporting her usual Gryffindor-versus-any-other-team-but-Ravenclaw headdress. The Wolves gawked in absolute fascination, especially Embry, who seemed quite taken with the peculiar witch.

"I do hope Gryffindor will triumph. Oh look! There's a cloud in the shape of a bobcat. It must be a sign."

Embry blinked moronically, and seemed unable to speak. At his hesitation, Luna whacked him around the head with her Quibbler magazine.

"Hey! What are you—"

"It's alright. I'm getting rid of them for you."

"Getting rid of what?" the wide-eyed Wolf panicked.

"The wrackspurts, of course! I recognise the signs." While Luna continued to bat Embry over the head, I turned my face into Rosalie's shoulder, who sat on my right, attempting to supress her own laughter.

"I don't understand!" Embry cried, receiving a thwack to the nose. Luna determinedly continued her attack. When she'd done with him, she turned her attention to the other Quileutes, who continued to gawk in the same way their friend had.

"Oh dear," said the witch in a dreamy fashion, "it looks like I've got my work cut out for me."

The hilarity of the situation was immense, and my friendly affection for Luna Lovegood soared to new heights. The Wolves had no idea how to react when their assailant began using their heads like the targets in whack-a-mole arcade game. Her face was scrunched with stubborn resolve and the utmost concentration, and I couldn't help but encourage her vendetta.

"You get those wrackspurts, Luna."

"Oh, I will."

_I don't get it! _thought Jacob, shielding his head. _This chick is crazy!_

And so it went on. Luna looked very proud of herself by the time she'd finished. Her Quibbler, unfortunately, was left in tatters, but she said it had been worth it, and I was inclined to agree. I laughed with my siblings while the visitors scratched their heads in total confusion. Eventually, however, our chuckles were interrupted by the sound of Emmett's deep voice, which rumbled through the air like thunder.

As always, he occupied a good portion of the front row up in the teachers' box, where he was eagerly awaiting the start of the game.

"And here they come, folks!" he cried as the Slytherin team confidently sauntered onto the pitch, broomsticks in hand. Their casual advance was nothing like the usual march of the Gryffindors, who always exited the changing rooms in the same tight and practiced formation: Harry at the head, the three Chasers behind him, and the remaining players at the rear—Ron and the two Beaters.

"The Slytherins exit the changing rooms in sloppy formation," Emmett commented, ignoring the reproachful prod my mother gave to his shoulder. "For the benefit of the newbies, here we have Draco Malfoy—the Slytherin captain and Seeker; the Chasers: Matthew Harper, Blaise Zabini and Arachne Blackhand; the Beaters: Octus Blackhand and Gregory Goyle; and the Keeper, Graham Pritchard."

The team received a tumult of applause from their house. The students of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, on the other hand, countered the calls of support with cheerful booing.

"And here come the glorious reds!" Emmett cried to the joy of the crowds. The roar of the fans exploded through the stadium, and Charlie seemed in danger of hyperventilating.

"That's Bella!"he screamed, his hands tight on the railing. "Oh my god, that's Bella! That's Bella!"

Quill and Embry squealed in delight, while Jacob stared on in awed silence, clearly overwhelmed by the fierce expression worn by his best friend. There was a hint of gold in her eyes as she marched with fierce determination onto the pitch with her teammates. The Wolves noticed it too, but the shade was too subtle to be detected by weaker eyes.

Alice laughed darkly. _Ada girl._

"The players take their position as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy shake hands. My-my, that was awkward. They look like they've been force-fed rotten pickles. Now I've never tried pickles, but they _smell _disgusting."

"Emmett," I heard my mother sigh in the background, "you're getting off topic."

"Right you are, Mom. The suspense is at an all-time peak as the teams await the whistle."

_No kidding, _I wanted to scream. Personally, I was a nervous wreck. If I had been in the habit of biting my finger nails, I'd have none left by this point. Charlie was in a similar boat; his brow was sweaty, and he kept fidgeting with his hands.

"Not ter worry," Hagrid told him with a cheerful pat to the back. Charlie blinked up at the enormous man, mesmerised by his size, but not so affected that it frightened him. The half-giant grinned and pointed to Bella. "She's a tough un y'know. If there's anyone that should be frightened, it's the Slytherins. If I 'ad a galleon for every time Bella had put one o' them lads in the hospital wing, Gringott's would 'av a blummin hard time findin' a vault big enough."

The police chief looked horrified, much to Hagrid's confusion. For Charlie's sake, I hoped that the subject would go no further, but Jacob argued that Bella wouldn't hurt a fly, which, naturally, was met by raucous laughter from Seamus and Dean.

"Just you wait, mate," Seamus chortled. "Quidditch is always rough, like, but Gryffindor-Slytherin is a whole other level. Save it until the final whistle, and then tell us that Hells-Bells wouldn't hurt a fly."

My brother and sisters looked just as wary as Charlie and the Quileutes as we turned our gaze back down onto the pitch. By the looks of things, the Chasers were each choosing an opponent. Viola had her sights set on Arachne, a tall, ebony-haired fifth year with wiry limbs, who shared the same pinched features as those of her twin brother, Octus. Ginny had chosen Harper, and Bella was busy staring down Blaise. She seemed to have applied a bit of make-up during her time in the changing rooms. I had a feeling that it was all just another sneaky tactic she was employing to give Gryffindor an advantage. Blaise harboured a secret crush for her after all, a fact that Bella was obviously exploiting.

"I love it," Rosalie cackled lowly. "Poor Blaise. I almost feel sorry for him."

Jasper shook his head. _She really does have no conscience when it comes to Quidditch, does she?_

"Nope." I would have loved to catch a glimpse of Bella's thoughts in that moment, but her mind was on complete lockdown; so, instead, I jumped into her rival's head, whose hidden emotion failed to match the aversion his countenance and body language suggested. Blaise's dark eyes were narrowed with feigned loathing as he directed them at Bella.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, Mudblood," he growled. _But, hell, she's beautiful!_

Bella threw back her head and laughed, thereby drawing attention to the creamy skin of her throat. "Oh, I know. Believe me, the feeling is completely mutual," she purred, once her laughter had died away. "There's a bed in the hospital wing with your name on it."

"If I'm going, I'm taking you with me."

At Bella's suggestive wink, Blaise gawked like an idiot. The Wolves too, all of whom heard the exchange over the roar of the arena, stared down at the pair in outright shock. When Jacob's eyes flitted to mine, I merely shrugged.

"Quidditch equals shameless strategies."

The Wolf scoffed. "Now there's an understatement."

Unfortunately for the Gryffindor Chaser, her opponent quickly came to his senses. _Come on, Blaise. You're not falling for this! This is how she plays! _

The wizard's eyes narrowed defiantly, and the realisation that her scheme had failed caused a similar expression to creep onto Bella's face. With her flirtatious manner removed, cold ambition took its place.

"Now," called Madam Hooch, "I shouldn't have to tell you to forget any dirty tricks you've planned for this match, but since this is Gryffindor versus Slytherin, I'm going to do it anyway. I want a good, clean game! Is that understood?"

_Not going to happen, _thought Arachne, whose face was set with a permanent scowl. _This is the year of the snake._

"Oooooh, this is going to be juicy, ladies and gentlemen," Emmett chuckled as he surveyed the faces of the players. "If looks could kill, we'd be out of a game right now. Goyle's nostrils are flaring so widely that the Gryffindors might end up mistaking them for the goal hoops."

The Wolves guffawed.

"Emmett!" my mother cried.

"Mind you, his head is so round that they might mistake it for the Quaffle."

"EMMETT MCCARTY CULLEN!"

"Or preferably, a Bludger. Then Amicus or Jimmy can show us their swings."

"So help me, young man!"

"I'm a vampire and even _I'm_ having trouble telling the difference."

"Unless you're looking for summer voluntary work at the Seattle Home for the Elderly, Emmett, I suggest you wise up!"

If my brother could have blanched, he most certainly would have. "Oh and whad'ya know, I had something in my eye. My mistake, ladies and gentlemen. It _is_ most definitely a head."

After the first few minutes of the bizarre commentary, Charlie threw me a look as if to say 'Is he for real?' to which I responded with a shrug. I was beyond trying to understand Emmett's infantile ways. Obviously his observations today would be extremely biased, as they always were, but since it was his mission to rile up the Slytherins and give Gryffindor the advantage (if only by a miniscule amount), I would continue to be grateful for his efforts. Besides, things were certainly more entertaining with Emmett commentating.

"The players mount their brooms," he said excitedly, "while Madam Hooch prepares to release the balls. They're sizing one another up. Look at those thighs—all coiled to spring. God, this is tense!"

"You're going down, Swan," Blaise spat, eyes only for Bella, who sneered back in delight.

"You first."

The sound of the whistle was lost in the roar of the audience. The players snarled as they launched into the air.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" screamed a joyous Emmett, barely able to contain himself. "And holy hell, look at that! Violence in first three seconds of the game as Bella Swan and Ginny Weasley collide with Slytherin Chasers Blaise Zabini and Matthew Harper!"

Sure enough, the rivals had done precisely that. To give their youngest players the best chance to seize the Quaffle, the experienced players of both teams had purposefully slammed directly into their opponents. It all unfolded so quickly that Madam Hooch had no way of telling exactly what happened, but when Bella ducked away, Blaise was left sporting a bloody nose. Luckily, my eyesight was sharp enough that I didn't miss the subtle head-butt.

_Did she just do that! _Rosalie wondered, totally flabbergasted. _I can't believe she just did that!_

"Edward," said Jasper, calmly, "something tells me the warnings about this match weren't exaggerated."

"No kidding, Sherlock."

Emmett's cries continued to sound over the cheers of the students. "The agile Viola Knight beats Arachne Blackhand to the ball, snatching it from the air and nimbly dodging her opponent! Ginny Weasley and Swan are hot on her tail as she soars towards the Slytherin hoops, joining her in the arrowhead formation! Harper looks as if he's in pain as he rolls along the pitch like a beer keg after falling off his broom. Zabini, too, is out of the game for now as he descends to ground level to get his busted nose fixed before he passes out from blood loss. What a pansy."

My mother's growls sounded in the background.

"Once again," my brother grinned, "the men, ahemgirlyboys—"

"Emmett!"

"—pardon me, small case of Itstrueitis—the boys have been put to shame by the women, who clearly have more guts and talent in one little finger than—"

After the last two Gryffindor games, Esme had prepared for what she called 'Emmett's inappropriate commentary', and whacked my brother around the head with a metal baseball bat. Although left unhurt, Emmett took the hint.

"Alright, alright. Slytherin is left with only one Chaser as the ambitious efforts to take the Gryffindor girls out of the game backfire! Viola rockets towards the Keeper, defended by her teammates on either side. Graham Pritchard looks nervous, and rightly so—here comes Knight—she's in range she shoots aaaaand—SCORE! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! PRITCHARD NEVER HAD A CHANCE!"

An army of fists shot into the air as three quarters of the audience roared in delight. With the first ten points secured in less than twenty seconds, the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were completely encouraged. Victory was in no way impossible! Rosalie flung her arm over my shoulder as she cheered, and I returned the gesture, hugging her to my side in brotherly fashion.

"Hell yeah!" cried Jared, executing a fist-pump. "Woooooooooooh!"

Jacob turned to grin at Charlie, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement. "That was seriously awesome."

"Awesome," nodded Bella's dad.

"Looks like the Slytherins are complaining to the referee," Emmett noted crossly as Malfoy and Harper argued with Madam Hooch. "Of course, anyone with a pair of eyes would say there are no grounds to disallow the goal." I was inclined to agree with my brother, not because I was totally biased, which I was, but because I knew full-well that the Slytherins were just as guilty when it came to blatching. The Gryffindors might have started the game with the intent to collide, but so had their rivals. As far as I was concerned, the fouls cancelled each other out. Madam Hooch seemed to be of the same opinion, because she allowed the goal, subsequently receiving a chorus of cheers from the Gryffindor supporters.

"The ball is back in play now. Arachne Blackhand to Harper, Harper to Zabini. Here comes Ginny Weasley, heading straight for Blaise who drops low to avoid the hit and—oooh, clearly not low enough ladies and gents, because the witch seems to have accidentally kicked the poorly coordinated wizard right in the sniffer! That's two to Gryffindor, nil to Zabini's nose. Your turn next, Viola."

"Emmett!"

"Sorry, Mom." _Not._ "Ooh, and it looks like I'm not the only one getting a telling off! Madam Hooch awards a penalty to Slytherin for Ginny's foul. Here's the first test for her brother—COME ON, RON—who, according to legend, never lets the Quaffle in!"

As planned, my brother's words, like a match to gunpowder, instantly propelled the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into united song.

"_Weasley can save anything,_

_He never leaves a single ring,_

_That's why __Gryffindors__ all sing:_

_Weasley is our King!"_

The students continued to chant as Harper prepared to take the penalty. Ron hovered steadily in front of the centre hoop, and locked stares with the Slytherin Chaser, whose chest was rapidly rising and falling, a product of increased adrenaline.

Rosalie's grip was so forceful that it would have crushed a human to pieces had she instead been embracing a mortal. As things were, I was just as anxious for the Gryffindor Keeper, and clutched her just as tightly.

"This is it—Harper speeds forwards—left or right? He shoots right, AND SO DOES RON—THE SCORE REMAINS TEN-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR!"

"HELL YEAH!" the Wolves screamed in unison, while I high-fived my sister. Our heads turned to Hermione, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, brown eyes twinkling brightly as she stared up at Ron.

_Wow. Amazing. Hermione, he's a keeper. _The witch chuckled at her own joke. Her boyfriend, meanwhile, was conducting the crowds with a wave of his arms as they continued to sing the Weasley victory song.

"And that, everyone," Emmett grinned, "is why Weasley is our king. Keep 'em coming, Ron! The Quaffle is back in play again—Knight to Swan—Swan soars over Harper, but ducks low at the last second and gives the Slytherin player the tail end of her broom! Looks like Harper can't see!"

Charlie's eyes were the size of golf balls as we watched the scene unfold. His daughter had soared over her opponents head, but descended quickly at the last second. The twigs making up her tail of her broom had subsequently scratched Harper across the face as he turned, getting him right in the eyes. Madam Hooch had to help the injured player down to the pitch, because he couldn't make anything out through his watery vision.

"Swan to Ginny Weasley. She crosses the centre line, and here come the Slytherins. Ginny to Swan and—oooooh!"

My fingers tightened on the rail as Bella took a Bludger to the head. It only clipped her left temple, but the blow was hard enough that it left a bloody cut.

"Swans flies forwards, looking dazed—holy hell, please don't fall off your broom, Bella. Knight catches up with her, ready to take the ball. Jimmy Peakes sends a Bludger in the right direction, scattering the Slytherins who quickly recover and soar towards Knight, aware that Swan will have to—What's this!" Up in the sky, Bella's velocity rocketed.

_Ha! _Rosalie grinned. _What a sneak! She was faking it._

"Swan speeds her advance with a smile that says it all!" My brother laughed. "The Slytherins have no way of catching the Gryffindor trickster, whom, it appears, is _not_ about to have a concussion. She zooms towards the Slytherin hoops, where Pritchard looks like he's about to wet himself—"

The entire stadium seemed to inhale at precisely the same moment as Bella flew forwards, her teeth bared in an elated, yet slightly sadistic, grin, the Quaffle neatly tucked under her arm.

"COME ON, BELLA!" screamed Charlie.

"YOU CAN DO IT!" Jacob cried.

"KILL HIM!" Alice shrieked, hanging as far over the rail as Jasper would allow.

"WILL SHE, WON'T SHE? THIS IS IT! SWAN SWOOPS IN, LOOKING FIERCE, EYES ON THE PRIZE, AAAND … SCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Emmett raved fanatically. "THAT'S TWENTY-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR! The mischievous Bella Swan takes the second goal of the game."

Charlie and the Quileutes were squealing like girls for a full minute following Bella's latest triumph. Her father and Seth had their arms around one another, and bounced giddily on the spot like they were trying to take off. They looked like a couple of pogo-sticks, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight. My eyes found my empathic brother, who was obviously feeding off the excitement of the crowd. He and his tiny lover caught my gaze, and together, we each executed a satisfying fist-pump.

There were more opportunities for these as the game went on. Gryffindor continued to outplay Slytherin in every respect, and the reds managed to secure eighty points before their opponents scored any.

Draco realised that his team needed to up their game. The match had only been going for thirty minutes, and already a victory from Gryffindor seemed possible.

"This is getting embarrassing," he spat at Blaise, swooping down from his high position. "At this rate, they'll be in a position to catch the Snitch and win! Do something!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything! Whatever it takes to win! You're up against a bunch of girls for crying out loud. Put them out of the game for all I care. Just do it!" And with that, he retreated back to his earlier position, his stare flicking briefly to Harry, who was lost in deep concentration. Malfoy's orders caused my insides to sizzle. The only thing holding back the guttural snarl contained in my chest was the knowledge that Bella was more than capable of defending herself on a broom. I hoped she'd go all out to give the Slytherins precisely what they deserved.

"It's war on the Quidditch pitch, ladies and gentlemen. A cheating Octus attempts to take out Ginny Weasley with a swing of his bat, but fails to notice the Bludger sent at him by Amicus Fortison. Octus takes a hit to the shoulder and subsequently bashes into his twin sister, Arachne. This gives Ginny an opening. She storms the pitch, passing to Kni—oh, but the Quaffle is intercepted by Zabini! Zabini hurtles back down the pitch, along the left side, with only a Beater and the Keeper to stop him! Yet here comes Swan, rocketing towards him at a wicked one-fifty! Can Zabini make it in time! Ten feet ahead of Bella, forty from the scoring area—Swan comes in quick—she's hot on him now—the players are level!"

My heart was in my stomach. I could barely stand to watch, yet I couldn't look away either. All of a sudden, the Gryffindor Chaser zoomed forwards and swerved to the left, not actually colliding with her opponent, but shocking him enough to have an effect. The move was so swift and unexpected that Blaise swerved too, terrified of a collision.

With no time to brake, Blaise's trajectory meant that he had nowhere to go but into the stands. Reflexively, his hand snatched the Firebolt's handle, knuckles turning white as he took her down with him.

"FOUL! That was a foul if ever I saw one!" Emmett bellowed. "What a dirty move! Do him for blurting, ref!"

Like my enraged brother, the Wolves, Charlie, and my siblings snarled viciously at the game's most recent development. I, meanwhile, was shrieking profanities, completely unable to contain my fury.

The students screamed and scattered as the flyers went plummeting down together. I stared on in horror as Bella collided with the wooden railing alongside her enemy. It splintered with the force of the impact, snapping instantly, leaving nothing else between my mate and the bleachers. She crashed against the floor with a grunt. The surrounding students—Ravenclaws, thankfully—winced in unison as her face smacked into the wood.

Jasper struggled to restrain the death-pixie as she battled against his hold. Her eyes were crazed and she cackled like a psychopath. "He's a deadman! A deadman! Let me at him! I'm gonna shove his head where the sun don't shine!"

"No, you're not."

"Oh, yes I am! Gonads for earrings I tell you!"

Jasper groaned. "Sweet Lord."

Bella seemed to share my sister's attitude. Through the eyes of Terry Boot, I watched as she spat out a mouthful of blood and her newly grown molar. Savage flames danced behind the gold of her eyes as she stared down at her lost tooth. She looked so incredibly irate as she snatched it up from the coalescing pool of crimson fluid that I feared spontaneous combustion.

"GOD DAMN IT!" she roared, turning on her rival. "I ONLY JUST GOT THAT!"

Through a newly battered nose, which was once again bleeding profusely, Blaise snorted. His laughter was clearly the final straw as far as Bella was concerned, because a primitive scream suddenly broke free of her chest, and she launched herself at the boy, impatient for violence.

"What the—"

"You're going to pay for this!"

"ARGH!"

Madam Hooch swooped in from the sky then, like a hawk locked onto its target. Unfortunately, the Ravenclaws were gathered so tightly, eager as they were to watch the scuffle play out, that the referee couldn't see or reach the two injured Chasers, who were both currently seeing red. "What's going on here? You—move aside! What's going on?"

_I shouldn't like this. _Blaise thought as Bella struggled above him, straddling his hips and she gripped the collar of his sweater

A snarl ripped up my throat, not only because he was thinking too much about how closely her body was pressed against his, but also because he abruptly aimed a forceful punch to her gut. Bella grunted, and kneed him where it hurt. Luckily, she had time to speedily roll to one side before Madam Hooch could break through the line of excited teenagers.

"What's going on here?" the teacher demanded, her yellow gaze shifting from one player to the other. When she caught sight of Blaise, who had scrunched himself into a tight ball and was whimpering like a puppy, she shook her head and tutted. "Oh dear, looks like you had a poor landing, Zabini."

The wizard moaned and pointed to Bella.

"Now, now, don't blame Swan for this. That move was perfectly sound. _You're_ the one who committed the foul. You know full well you're not meant to grab another player's broom. Come on, let's get you off to sick bay. Madam Pomfrey can have a look at you while Swan takes a penalty."

Panic sparked in Blaise's eyes as the witch went to help him up. Frantically, he shook his head and pointed to Bella again, desperately attempting to convey his meaning. "She-she—"

"Swan, if you feel well enough to take the shot, I suggest you get yourself back in the air; otherwise, follow me down."

"That's alright, Madam Hooch. I think I'll be OK."

The referee nodded. Bella's gentle smile gave nothing away. The moment the teacher had her back turned, however, the fake layer of innocence dissolved, leaving in its place a grin both wicked and victorious, one with the power to set her rival seething. The witch waved unrepentantly as Blaise glared at her from over his shoulder, before taking off after Madam Hooch.

Emmett's chortling filled the arena as the commotion came to an end. "Not exactly sure what happened there," he chuckled. "Bella seems to have lost another tooth, but she'll no doubt be able to regrow it later. Zabini and the Slytherins look sour as she shoots into the air to take a penalty for Gryffindor, following the atrocious foul committed by the rival Chaser."

After passing the fuming Chaser off to the school nurse, whose presence was a result of the recent lack of student casualties, Madam Hooch soared back into the air to referee the game.

"Pritchard once again looks shaky on his broom," Emmett commented, "unlike his opponent, who, despite her recent injuries, seems hungrier for victory than ever."

Unable to breathe, much like my brother and sisters, I waited for Bella to take the shot. In the flurry of chanting and waving fans, we stood stock-still, as durable and immobile as ancient speleothems.

Charlie adopted a stance reminiscent of a man of devout faith. With clasped hands tucked beneath his chin, his lips trembled in silent prayer, thus providing a very clear contrast between himself and his youthful companions, whose bellowing cries overpowered many of the cheers and screams of the surrounding humans.

Up in the air, Bella tensed. Ever so slightly, she leaned forwards on her broom, the subtle shift revealing the ridges of her shoulder-blades. To anyone with less than perfect eyesight, the adjustment would seem innocent enough; a vampire, however, would not mistake the catlike movement, nor the ruthless golden stare, for anything less than the resolve of a waking predator. The claws were out, and Pritchard was prey.

"It's white-knuckles for Gryffindor and Slytherin players alike now folks," Emmett observed as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "And the ref's given the go ahead—off speeds Swan—Pritchard trembles—Swan shoots—"

"YEEEEEEEAH!" my sister squealed in my ear. I blinked in a daze. Over to the left, a few of the Wolves had decided they'd had enough of their clothes.

"BOOYAH!" a bare-chested Jared cried, waving a red flannel shirt above his head like a flag. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

Embry followed suit, but his attention quickly turned to Luna, who was far too immersed in the asparagus-shaped cloud to realise he was flexing for her benefit.

Charlie patted me roughly on the back, forgetting the potential injuries he could earn as a result. I was far too elated to think to apologise when he subsequently winced, and continued to grin manically up at my fiancée as she loop-the-looped past the Blackhand twins and a scowling Goyle.

"Another awesome shot by Bella Swan," my brother chuckled. "Was there ever any doubt? Of course not. Gryffindor lead with ninety points to ten. Ha! Another thirty points and Potter will be able to go after the Snitch."

_Come on, girls, _thought Harry, staring down at his team from a superior altitude.

Emmett's reminder of the score seemed to give the Slytherins the motivation they'd been lacking. Just as Viola was about to score another goal for Gryffindor, Harper shot up from ground level like a speeding rocket and intercepted the Quaffle. From there, it went to Arachne, then to Blaise, who passed back to Harper before dodging a Bludger sent by Jimmy Peakes. Goyle swung for Ginny to throw her off course, leaving only Viola and Bella in the Chaser's path. He zoomed towards them; similarly, they charged in his direction. The other Slytherins joined his advance, before speeding ahead to cut off the girls.

"They're going to crash!" Jacob screeched, grabbing Charlie's arm. Bella's father blanched, his mouth agape. Rosalie's vice-like grip almost crushed my hand as we watched the scene unfold.

Viola threw an unsure glance at her team-mate. _What do we do?_

"Don't pull out, Vi!" Bella screamed over the whoosh of the wind. "We're better!"

"YES, YOU ARE!" Emmett cried, egging them on, much to the confusion of every other human. "Broken bones, remember? BROKEN BONES!"

Indeed, Slytherin had upped their game, but would Gryffindor fail to meet the challenge? Pfft!

The Chasers sped. Closer and closer they came to collision.

"Three against two, and here comes Peakes and Fortison plus the Slytherin Beaters, all ready to join their teammates! The Slytherins speed over the centre line!"

With her hair flaring out wildly behind her, my screaming Bella pulled away from her team, pushing the Firebolt as fast as it would go. Harper shrieked when he realised she wouldn't pull up, but Bella had no intention of crashing into the boy. She shot to the left at the very last second, but not before throwing a punch at the Quaffle, forcing it from Harper's grip.

"Stupid mudblood!" Octus screeched, slamming his bat into the handle of Bella's broom as she passed.

Two things happened then. The good news: Ginny dived as the Quaffle plunged through the air, intercepting it for Gryffindor; the horrid news: Bella's broom was propelled into a spin, with her still on it! Like a Catherine wheel, the girl went whirling chaotically through the air, her features a blur as she lost all control.

Futile screams issued from the nearby Gryffindors as they pleaded with the witch to 'hold on', the terror suspended. Only my brother stood a chance of being heard though.

"Come on, Bells. You control the broom, not the other way around. Use the Force!" he growled.

_What the hell is he going on about? _Seamus frowned, momentarily distracted by Emmett's inane command.

Up in the sky though, a peal of high, ringing laughter shattered the heavy trepidation. Bella's hands tightened on the Firebolt's handle, commanding it to increase its speed, until the thrust was so great that it blasted her out of the deadly rotations. Relief and delight swept through the crowds of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as the witch executed a graceful turn in mid-air, grinning like a hungry shark as her eyes landed on the enemy Chasers.

"Swan regains control of her broom," Emmett blared, "just in time to assist Ginny and Viola, who are currently being pursued by the angry Slytherin Chasers!"

The Firebolt whistled as it cut through the air, surging ever-faster towards the others. Ginny and Viola beamed as their team-mate flew to defend them.

"Nice one, Bella!" Ginny cried, passing the ball to Viola, before turning to join the attack. Viola, on the other hand, powered on ahead towards Pritchard while her comrades hurtled in the opposite direction.

With a thundering shout, Amicus cracked his bat against an oncoming Bludger—a gift from Goyle—sending it straight for Arachne, who howled as it smashed into her left shoulder. In the same moment, Ginny swerved in front of Blaise, who subsequently veered off course, while Bella sped towards Harper. When the players were level, Bella decided to make use of an old trick. The lioness erupted to the surface, her teeth fully displayed as her lips curled back in fury, through which there ripped an ear-splitting roar.

Harper yelped. In his terror, he swerved abruptly, forgetting about the tower that lay directly to the right. He yelled again as he realised what he'd done, but was silenced a second later when he crashed into the structure.

Emmett was enraptured by the whole thing. He looked joyous. "Viola speeds towards the Slytherin hoops, completely unobstructed after her team-mates take out the opposition! There's no one to challenge her now except Pritchard, and let's face it, he's a bit of a drip—"

"Watch it, Emmett," my mother growled.

"Much like Goyle."

"EMMETT!"

"Sorry, Mom. You're right; I was wrong. Goyle is more like Shrek."

"I'm warning you… "

"For those of you who don't know, Shrek is a fat ogre."

"THAT IS IT! DETENTION!"

"Might as well say what I like now then—AND SCORE!" Emmett laughed. "Exactly as I thought. Bella and Ginny high-five as little Viola takes another ten points for Gryffindor."

Nothing made sense anymore. The world had been tipped on its axes; otherwise, why would Jasper and I be squealing like excited schoolgirls, giggling profusely, while Rosalie and Alice directed vulgar chants at the Slytherin quarter of the arena?

"And the Quaf—ARRRRRRRRGH! MALFOY HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH!" my brother shrieked, triggering a chorus of gasps from the spectators; and then, like the ripples of an atomic blast, pandemonium exploded through the stadium, forcing the chaotic gamut of human emotion upon the watching crowds. Untainted horror battled against the hopeful screams of the Slytherins as Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs cried out in united panic.

"STOP HIM!" Alice and Jared screeched in unison as Draco plunged towards the tiny golden ball hovering just behind Amicus' right ear.

_No, no, no! _Harry panicked, racing after his rival.

Up in the sky, the other players were motionless. They watched in frozen silence as Draco threw out his hand, grinning like a mad man and surging ever closer to victory. For the smallest flash of time, Amicus resembled a trembling fawn, his hazel eyes wide with alarm as he stared up at the Seeker hurtling towards him with insane velocity; and then, as if a switch had been flipped behind the Beater's eyes, that childish uncertainty morphed into something great and inspiring.

His mind was a black hole, far too powerful to resist. I welcomed the pull, and allowed myself to be sucked into his thoughts, through which I saw everything play out from the best possible angle.

Amicus detected the fluttering by his ear. He saw the flaming excitement in Draco's eyes. He tasted the suffocating fear of his peers as it pressed in on him from all sides. More importantly, he felt the heavy weight of his team's expectations. He felt that same expectation forcing back his arm until it was raised high in the air. He felt it ripple through every sinew of tissue like an electric current, commanding him to grip his bat that little bit tighter.

_Mine! _Draco grinned, five metres from the Snitch.

Amicus sneered. _Not today, mate._

And with that, he swung his bat through the air, smashing it into Draco's reaching arm.

The wizard grunted, dropping it to his side in shock as he gritted his teeth against the sharp pain. I winced when one collided with the other, but Amicus was utterly free of regret, regardless of his body's protests as he and Malfoy tumbled onto the grassy pitch together.

Harry pulled up a second later, and the glittering ball zoomed away, making itself invisible once again to the eyes of the humans.

Madam Hooch looked as if she'd been pumped full of Botox when she swooped in from the skies. Her jaw was locked tighter than a vice, and her eyes were so incredibly wide that the white around her irises was completely visible. "You've got some explaining to do, Fortison! What on earth was that?"

Amicus groaned, rubbing his head. "Self defence?"

"Pfft! I'm not an idiot, Fortison. That was a terrible stunt you just pulled."

"Worked though," chuckled Emmett.

"I've no choice but to penalise you," the referee announced, grabbing her whistle. "A penalty to Slytherin!"

The Slytherins weren't satisfied with Hooch's decision, and demanded that she announce them the winners after the obvious display of cheating. However, the witch dismissed their protests with a flick of her hand, and responded with a mere 'that's Quidditch', much to the displeasure of the Greengrass sisters, who were using their wands to catapult conjured bricks at Gryffindor flyers. The only thing that stopped their tirade was Madam Hooch's threat to award a penalty to Gryffindor. That didn't put an end to the Slytherins' displeasure though, so when Zabini managed to score for his team, successfully putting the Quaffle through the left hoop, his achievement was only met with mild applause.

"Good l'il Amicus," Hagrid clapped, his eyes on the smiling Beater, who had once again taken to the air. "Although, he's not that small any more, is he? Shootin' up like a bean pole, that young un is. I'll bet yer five galleons he's captain in a couple o' years."

"I don't doubt you," I responded, without taking my eyes off the boy in question. Aside from a nasty graze above his right eye, he looked fine, though the same couldn't be said for Draco, who looked as if he'd been force-fed sour grapes.

The score was one hundred points to twenty, giving Gryffindor an eighty point lead. The team needed to increase that by thirty points before Harry could catch the Snitch, so the pressure was still on.

Ginny was the next to score. The Chasers continued to pass the ball, swerving like eagles as they fought their way past the enemy players and dodged oncoming Bludgers. Charlie's teary eyes glittered in the light of the sun, harnessing its warmth as his daughter scored again for her team. With only ten points needed to equalise, the girls chose their moment to unleash Gryffindor's secret weapon.

"Knight thunders down the pitch, the Quaffle tucked neatly under her arm. The Slytherin Chasers are heading straight for her, and in sweep Ginny and Swan with Fortison and Peakes."

Their flight was precise. Like fighter jets, they surged across the sky, the air cheering as they cut through it. The sound was coupled with gasps of amazement as the five players flew in perfect synchronisation, Bella and Ginny spiralling around the youngest Chaser, while the Beaters covered the front and rear.

"LADIES AND GENTLEWIZARDS," my brother screamed, "THE COBY CORKSCREW!"

The Slytherins were just as flabbergasted as the rest of us. None of the players knew how to react to the practised move. They couldn't get to the Quaffle, not unless they managed to get a Bludger past Jimmy or Amicus. Harper tried to break the ranks with a charge, but he didn't have the courage to follow through, and halted in mid-air while the Gryffindors torpedoed down the pitch. A second before Viola reached the scoring area, the others pulled away, nimbly flipping out of their formation.

The roar of the Gryffindors was incredible as little Viola flung the Quaffle past Pritchard, who accidentally crashed into one of the hoops.

I barely registered the fact that I was bouncing up and down like a pogo-stick. I couldn't have cared less how ridiculous I looked, nor could my sisters or brother, or Charlie, or the Wolves, or the witches and wizards standing nearby. Seamus was so excited that he grabbed Jared's face and placed a big wet kiss on his cheek. Jared looked horrified.

"That's how you do it!" Seth cried, waving his shirt.

Emmett seemed to agree. "As you lot say, that was bloody brilliant! It's a level playing field now as Viola Knight clinches the crucial goal for her team, aided by the superb flying skills of Bella Swan and Ginny Weasley."

_They did it, Edward,_ Rosalie grinned, squeezing my shoulder. _They actually did it!_

I nodded, speechless.

If only Alice had lost her tongue too.

_Gryffindor till I die!_

_Gryffindor till I die!_

_I know I am, I'm sure I am,_

_Gryffindor till I die!_

It didn't stop there either

_You thought you had us down, boys._

_What's with the sad frowns, boys?_

_You're witherin', poor Slytherin,_

_You so don't have us down!_

There were some that she even managed to get others to sing along to, not that it was difficult to learn the words. They just needed the correct tune …

_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!_

_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!_

_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!_

_Gryffindor!_

_Gryffindor!_

_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!_

And so it went on.

Slytherin tried to compete with their own chants, but they were like whispers under static, and were completely overwhelmed by the combined efforts of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The songs were like energy, spells in their own right. The longer they went on, the more they nourished the red-robed players. Physical fatigue had no hold on them; it was washed away by the music created by the spectators.

Charlie sang louder than anyone, but he certainly had some competition. Seamus, Dean and Neville were doing a decent job, and stood with their arms cast over one another's shoulders. Lavender Brown, who was standing two rows in front with Bayle Wishart, demonstrated high levels of enthusiasm, too, her high voice easily discernible in the din. With her boyfriend's arms wrapped around her waist, she swayed from side to side, her arms stroking the air above her.

Five additional goals were scored in the next fifteen minutes. The Slytherin players were furious. They took twenty points for their team, resorting to the most ignoble means possible. The Gryffindors gave as good as they got, of course. Beaters' bats were flying everywhere, limbs were thrown this way and that in an attempt to injure other players, and four out of five goals were a result of penalties.

The Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers had done their part it seemed. They had been playing for two and a quarter hours, and now everyone, whether Gryffindor or Slytherin, was counting on the Seekers to bring it home.

I scanned the arena for signs of the Snitch, searching for the molten glimmer that would indicate its whereabouts. Twenty metres to the left of the centre line, a sudden sparkle caught my attention. There it was, fluttering lazily forty feet above the emerald pitch, reflecting the brilliant summer light. Regardless of space and setting, it was always easy for any vampire to locate a Snitch. Our eyesight was so developed that detection was never a problem for us.

Beside me, Rosalie worried her lip as she watched Harry. The Gryffindor captain was looking in the wrong direction, his eyes wandering over the other half of the field, unlike Draco, who surged forwards all of a sudden, diving like an eagle after his prize.

As Emmett began raving once more, propelled into hysterical screams by the alerted Seeker, all other players aside from Harry came to an abrupt halt. This time, no one obstructed Draco's line of flight. Bella was the closest, suspended in mid-air twenty feet from the Snitch, the Quaffle tucked tightly beneath her arm.

I saw her eyes land on the lightning quick Slytherin—practically a blur as white-blond merged into green—and marvelled as gold bled out from her narrowing black pupils. The shift in her mind was the slightest imaginable, but even so, it was enough. The sudden crack in her shield allowed me entrance, and I certainly didn't hesitate.

The Quaffle slid from Bella's grasp, just as her vision snapped to the Snitch. When she realised the difference in distance between Harry and Draco, her stomach lurched.

_He'll never make it!_

"Oh, no," Rosalie groaned, sensing defeat.

Hermione shrieked, her face a mask of horror. "Bella, look out!"

Everything happened so fast after that. Bella realised the problem in the same moment that I did. Just as Draco thundered after the Snitch, a Bludger was heading straight for her.

She had just enough time to move out of the way—to fly out of the missile's path … but she didn't. Instead, she froze, and my heart dropped like a brick.

"Yes!" cried Draco, so close now.

But Bella was looking the other way, her eyes on the Bludger. Jasper gasped beside me, his mouth falling open. Mine did the same when I realised why. What I had mistaken for fear in those big golden orbs was something else entirely.

Determination.

One of Bella's hands gripped her broom; the other swung back behind her head.

Draco was twenty feet from the Snitch.

Bella smiled.

Fifteen feet now.

Bella screamed.

Ten feet from success.

Bella swung. Her feral roar ripped through the air like a war cry as she threw her arm forward into the path of the merciless Bludger. A painful crunch and a snap clawed suddenly at my ears as the side of her fist smashed into the ball, sending it flying back in a new direction.

Five feet from the end was when it all came crashing gloriously down for Draco Malfoy and Slytherin house. The Bludger slammed into his side, the sheer force of the impact blasting him sideways as easily as it would a bowling pin.

The window was there, and in swept Harry, sapphires for eyes as he threw out his hand for the very last time, snatching the Snitch from the air.

One moment of calm; then …

Madness erupted!

Suddenly, I was plummeting down into a sea of euphoria. All around me, tidal waves of jubilation and wonder were crashing in as the students of Hogwarts threw up their arms in celebration, screaming and cheering and crying all at once, every single one of them watching in awe as the red-capes converged on the girl who had made all of it possible—the girl who had catapulted Gryffindor to victory.

Victory!

"THEY DID IT!" came Emmett's rapturous booms, while Ron almost suffocated Bella, ensnaring her in a death hug. "THEY DID IT! Harry Potter catches the Snitch for Gryffindor, after a sensational contribution from his teammate, who knocked Draco Malfoy out of the sky with a valiant new move! Ladies and gentlewizards, I give you … the Hand of Swan!"

Hand of Swan—that was what they were saying. It was the only thing I could hear.

"Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan!"

So it went on.

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were dazzled by Bella's fearless performance, and continued to chant the words over and over in honour of the witch, who was currently cradling her damaged hand as she descended from the sky with her teammates.

When her feet touched the ground, Harry and Ron dived at her together, lifting her up onto their shoulders to present her to the frenzied audience.

Harry gripped her tightly by the knee as he looked up at her. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I seriously love you!"

"Love her?" Ron laughed, adding his penny to the pot. "Woman, we worship you! I bow down to your infinite brilliance."

Despite the agony she must have been experiencing, Bella giggled.

The Slytherin players were already leaving the pitch, too resentful following their stolen victory to watch the proceedings. The Gryffindor team, on the other hand, gladly soaked up the adoration.

Whether from the pain in her fist, or from the heightened emotion of winning her final game, Bella's eyes were swimming behind a film of tears. Her smile was tight, and she was clearly gritting her teeth, but her euphoria was evident, and seemed to cast a visible aura about her.

"That was awesome, Bella!" Ginny squealed, clutching her friend's cape. "I could kiss you for it!"

"Her hand!" said Viola. "I want to kiss her hand!"

"Me first!" cried Amicus.

And so they did. Bella laughed and blushed as she was lowered to the ground, and one by one, every member of the team bent to kiss the reason for their success.

Charlie seemed to have no words. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed each time he tried to gulp back his swelling emotion. If pride had had the properties of helium, he would have floated away by now. The Wolves, too, were eager to let everyone know about their association with the match heroine, especially Jacob.

"That's my best friend! That's my best friend!"

Embry winked at Luna, and pointed down at Bella. "I taught her that."

My body tensed as something launched at my back, but I relaxed when I recognised the minds and scents of Seamus and Dean. My nose scrunched automatically as two wet kisses were placed on either side of my face.

"Those are for your woman, Edward. Pass 'em on, mate."

After wiping my face with the back of my sleeve, I threw them both an amused smile. "You know, I'm starting to think you two have the hots for me."

Seamus snorted. "Sorry, but I prefer blondes."

And then I was being lifted off the ground without warning, after my tiny sister decided to lock me in a bear hug.

"The first time we play vampire baseball with your future wife, she's going to be on my team!"

"I want in too," Rosalie laughed.

Alice beamed. "It's settled then! Girls versus boys."

Jasper smirked and shook his head as the two females danced away from us, their arms linked as they followed the crowds out of the stands, cheering 'Hand of Swan' as they went.

Down on the pitch, the Gryffindor players were making their way towards the changing rooms, waving as they walked towards the exit. Bella's eyes had once again transformed into cups of molten gold. Her mind told me that she was searching for my face. When her gaze finally connected with mine, everything seemed to click into place. My world was a bizarre jigsaw, and all the pieces were exactly where they were meant to be, sliding together in perfect harmony. Only one piece was missing now, but I would find it soon.

I had everything I needed. At some point, I would have to find a way to bring up the subject of babies. Granted, I couldn't tell Bella about Renesmee, but the sphinx's spell wouldn't prevent me from discussing children in general. I decided then that I would ask Bella about the life she had initially pictured for herself. I needed to know if children had featured in that. What if they hadn't though? Would I let that stop me?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, and grinned down at the radiant witch. Before she disappeared into the changing rooms, she winked and blew me a kiss, resulting in a wolf-whistle from Jasper, who was feeling playful after prolonged exposure to the Quileutes.

Together, my brother and I headed after the girls, the two of us eager to watch the march back to the castle. Charlie and the Wolves followed us down to the exit, where we met up with Esme, Carlise and Emmett, the last of whom couldn't stop talking about Bella's final move, not that I minded. Actually, he sounded a bit like a sports critic, reeling off one adjective after another.

"Amazing! Superb! Absolutely astounding!" The students certainly seemed to agree. When the players emerged from the changing rooms, they were greeted by euphoric cheers. The witches and wizards didn't miss a beat. They immediately hoisted Bella and her friends into the air, screaming in delight as began their journey back to the castle.

Bella was being carried by Seamus, Dean, Terry Boot and Bayle Wishart. Her hand was newly mended, and I guessed that Madam Pomfrey had already performed her handy work. In her arms she cradled a large trophy—the Quidditch Cup.

"Oi, Swan!" Bella turned her head, alerted by Emmett's booming voice. He gave her the thumbs up and grinned. "That's what I call broken bones."

"Thanks coach!" she called back, before showing him her fist. "Broken bones!"

I left the others behind then. Somehow, I managed to fight my way into the throng, past all the students desperate to touch the Hand of Swan, until I was right beneath her, supporting her weight with those closest.

"Trust you, Bella," I whispered in her ear. "Who else would pull a stunt like that?"

She chuckled in response. "I really wanted to win."

"I gathered that. I've never met anyone as tenacious as you."

Bella laughed again, but didn't challenge my observation. Instead, she closed her eyes and contented herself with listening to the rhythmic chanting. One thing was certain; they would be talking about Bella Swan for years to come. They all love her, and so did I.

Bella said goodbye to the Wolves and her father once we arrived back at the castle. They were waiting for her on the fifth floor, inside Carlisle and Esme's office. There, she was hugged by everyone, except Paul, who settled with patting her on the back. Charlie thanked me again for enabling their visit, and demanded that he be invited to the next vampire baseball match.

"That's something I definitely want to see."

"Are you sure you want to ruin normal baseball for yourself, Dad?"

"Absolutely. I watch far too much television. Edward, you'll let me know when the next game is happening." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," I grinned.

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Edward, seriously, you can drop this sir stuff. I really don't care that you eat lions."

"OK."

"My daughter becoming a lion kind of puts things in perspective."

"Dad."

"I'm just saying."

"Alright, Charlie."

"As long as you don't try to eat _her _when she's a lion," he emphasised.

"I can tell the difference," I promised.

With that, and a few additional words of congratulations for his daughter, Charlie departed, confidently striding into the emerald flames of the fireplace.

"I think your father is developing an appreciation for the Floo Network, Bella," Jasper said on our way back to the common room. "He seemed excited about using it."

Bella nodded. "He's been using it a lot lately. He's had a new fireplace put in especially."

The closer we came to Gryffindor house, the louder the chanting became. It was so loud that it vibrated down through the walls of the Grand Staircase. We must have stopped a dozen times on our way there, because the portrait people were all eager to convey their admiration. They'd heard about the match from passing students. The Fat lady was especially delighted, and even after we passed through, I heard her shout, "She's one of mine."

The roar that greeted us was immense. Party-poppers were being brandished in every corner of the room, and from them spewed fountains of different coloured bubbles, all aimed in Bella's direction. The students hadn't tired of their chant, and picked up where they left off.

"Over here, Bells," Ron cried, waving from his place by the stairs. He held the cup while Harry poured in one bottle after another of Madam Rosmerta's butter-beer. "You first!"

The students shuffled aside to allow Bella room to move. They reached out as she passed, the tips of their fingers skimming her right hand. Those too far back to reach her were happy to clap and keep up the chant.

When she reached the front, Ron offered her the trophy. He patted her on the back, and winked. "Bottoms up, Bells."

She laughed, and was just about to take a swig, but was interrupted by the call of the students, who had switched their shout from 'Hand of Swan' to 'speech, speech, speech'. Bella looked imploringly at the Quidditch captain, but he merely laughed and shrugged.

"It's you they want."

"Me? But I don't know how to make speeches!" she whispered.

Ginny nudged her forward. "You'll willingly break your hand, but are too afraid to speak up? Come on, Bella."

Staring out at the waiting crowd, the witch blushed until her face was as red as a tomato.

_Bless, _thought Emmett, barely containing a cackle.

With a gesture from Ron, the other students began to settle down, each of them waiting with excited faces for Bella to indulge their desire for a final speech. It was only after my empathic brother began pumping the uncertain girl with all the confidence he could conjure that she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"I, um, I haven't prepared anything, so … I guess I'll just wing it." Bella coughed, shuffling her feet as her eyes roamed the expectant crowd. "As you all know, this is my last year at Hogwarts … It's one section of my life that I—that all of us, I think—will be sad to let go of."

The older students, all those who would not be returning in September, murmured their agreement. Bella seemed to take courage from that. Her back straightened a little more, and she squared her shoulders.

"When I stepped off the Hogwarts' Express all those years back, I didn't really know what to expect. If you'd told me back then that there was a sport I might be fairly good at, I probably would have laughed in your face." At this, the room filled with the sound of gentle laughter. I smiled. "As it is, Quidditch was one of the best things that ever happened to me … amongst other things, of course."

My grin grew wider as she threw me a quick wink.

"I learnt so much, down there on that pitch. In sports … in life—these games we play—winning is important, sure; I'm not going to deny that … but there's so much more to it. It's about … about teamwork—about working towards a common purpose—about wanting something so badly that it makes your bones hurt, and doing anything and everything you can to make it happen."

I didn't need to be a mind reader to sense the shift in mood. I had a feeling that Bella wasn't simply talking about the match now.

"That said … after five years at Quidditch, seven years at magic and eighteen years at life, here's to … to broken bones and losing teeth," she smiled, earning a small cheer from her audience. "To fireworks in the exam hall …" The applause grew louder as the students remembered the noble efforts of the Weasley twins.

"To fireworks on the stairs, for that matter," Bella smirked. This time, it was Seamus' and Dean's turns to blush. The cheering increased in intensity as, one by one, the witches and wizards were acknowledged for their bravery.

"To killing snakes, secret meetings, playing chess, and saying no. To fire in my blood, portable swamps, trips to Italy and I must not tell lies!"

Harry smiled, nodding his head in silent thanks while Ron and Hermione patted him on the back. Bella fell silent then, looking out at all the friends she had lived and fought beside. Happiness and sadness could be seen on her face as she considered her final words. I bit my lip as her eyes landed on me, wondering all the while how I could ever deserve someone so incredible.

Holding my gaze, she raised the cup to toast, and said, "To all the things that _should_ have stopped us but didn't, and to the things that never will. Cheers."

And cheer they did. Bella lifted the cup to her lips, taking the first mouthful of butter-beer, while everyone around her screamed their applause, not just for the speech itself, but for everything they had achieved during the last eight years of adversity. Every contribution, no matter how small, had made a difference, and this was perhaps the last opportunity that the members of Gryffindor house would have to celebrate it all together.

One after another, they took their turn. When the butter-beer ran out, there were extra supplies to refill the cup.

What made it even better was that _I _had a place in it all. As Bella threw her arms around me, I realise that she was right. Trips to Italy and venom in her blood hadn't stopped either of us. Bella was as persistent as ever, refusing to let the odds deter her from pursuing a life with me. That in itself was a miracle in my eyes.

"I love you," I said, staring down into her face.

Gently, she stroked my chest, gazing up at me from beneath her lashes. "As I love you."

My grin grew wider, until it was touching my eyes. "I've just remembered that I have something for you."

Her brow furrowed at my words. I laughed loudly, before bending down to lay a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"That's from Seamus." I did the same on the other side, earning a giggle from the joyful witch. "That's from Dean. And this one …" Bella arched an eyebrow, waiting for my next gift, as ever so slowly, I lowered my face to hers, "is from me."

I barely suppressed a growl as she deepened the kiss, knotting her fingers with my hair. I would have stayed that way forever, but finally we were interrupted. My siblings were staring at us with expressions of amusement.

"Hungry, Bella?" Emmett laughed, to which the girl responded with a roll of her eyes.

The other players joined us then. Harry was carrying the cup. It was filled to the brim with a new substance, one that could only be the unique potion sold in Honeydukes.

"Everyone else has had their turn except you lot," Ron announced, looking at my siblings and me. "Ready to taste victory?"

"You're actually serious?" Jasper blinked.

"Of course! Did you think we were joking?"

My brother didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Owing to the dragon's blood, he wasn't thirsty, so he didn't flinch when the members of the house team aimed their wands at their fingers, nor did his mouth water, as it would have done once upon a time, when he smelled the different samples of blood. Still, he appreciated the bouquet, smiling in anticipation as seven ruby droplets fell into the potion.

The newly created compound scent was absolutely divine, obviously not as incredible as Bella's concentrated essence, but far more appealing than those of the others. Because she was my Singer, it was only natural that Bella's scent would make those of her friends that little bit more appealing; not that they weren't already. They just weren't Bella.

"That smells pretty amazing," Emmett admitted, peering into the cup. I had to agree with him.

Alice was the first to drink. A blissful moan escaped her as she savoured the taste. Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett produced the same reaction, and I almost had to wrestle the cup from the latter.

Just before I guzzled down the last of the potion, I gazed over at my smiling witch, linking the fingers of my left hand with her right. Bringing it up to my lips, I kissed it lovingly, the image of her final seconds as a Gryffindor Chaser blazing brilliantly in my mind, where it would remain untarnished forevermore.

"To victory?" I asked. Whether she knew it or not, my questioning referred as much to the future as it did to the past and present.

Bella nodded. "To victory."

And with that, I took the offering into myself, the potential for our lives swimming behind my closed eyelids. The flavour was out of this world. It was everything I imagined 'victory' to be—burning and wonderful and sweet and delicious. It slipped down my throat as easily as warm butter; and as I stood there, consuming the last few mouthfuls, Neville had an epiphany.

Alice gasped, and a succession of welcomed images fluttered into my head. Very soon, Neville would approach Carlisle; he would tell my father that he wanted to _try. _The potion would not work the first time around; it would need a tweak, but the final outcome was set in stone. The parents of the boy who had chopped off the head of a snake would recover. Granted, there would always be a part of them that would long to forget, and they would never be the cheerful couple that they had been all those years ago. The scars would never fully disappear, but someday soon—very soon, in fact—Alice and Frank Longbottom would say 'hello' to their son, and he would say 'hello' in return.

The last drop of blood slipped past my lips, and as it did, I exchanged a knowing stare with my sister.

_Soon, Edward, _she promised.

With ours arms wrapped around our mates, everything was as it should be.

I nodded back at her. _Yes. Very soon._

**A/N: Well, there you have it. I thought I'd leave it with what I thought was a hopeful, yet slightly ominous, ending. Thanks to everyone who helped with ideas, including ****kyokoaurora**** who gave me the idea for curing Neville's parents. Also, thanks to Sarah, Casey, and my great friend Tee.**

**I will be posting the next story as soon as the first chapter is finished. It will cover Breaking Dawn, but will obviously contain my own twists. If you want to read it, either put me on author alert, or await my announcement, which I will tag onto the end of 'The Wisdom Seeker'.**

**Please review, and thanks to all of you who have done so in the past. It's great motivation!**

**Now … 'The Justice Reaper'. **

**Giggle xxx**


	30. Author's Note

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm about to post The Justice Reaper. I'm currently proof-reading, but it should be up very, very soon. Whoop!**

**Thanks to all who wished me luck for the interview. I got the job! Yay. I am now officially a college lecturer. Can't wait for my first pay day!**

**The reason why this latest chapter has taken so long is as follows: my old laptop broke down at the beginning of August. I had to use my previous laptop to write, but I forgot how temperamental that blasted machine is, and ended up losing about 12-15 pages of work, even though I made back-ups. For that reason, I decided to lay off until I got a new computer, reasoning that if I lost it all again, I would just give up on the story entirely. I have one now, so I'm good to go. I hope you enjoy this story. I've upped the rating just to be safe, though I'm not entirely sure at the moment how far I'm going to take the honeymoon scenes. I doubt they'll be too graphic, but I'm not going to skip over everything either. I was angry with SM for that, so I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I did exactly the same thing. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.**

**See you in about an hour!**


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